something to do with the treats and toys I brought for him, but as his godmother I believe that is my duty.
Flo rolls her eyes. There is no way I am putting her off.
‘Billie is going to Ursula’s for the afternoon. You know, Jack’s mum from the mother-and-toddler group? We take turns when things come up to arrange a quick playdate to allow us both the odd hour off here and there out of daycare hours. I don’t know what I would do without her.’
Now it is my turn to roll my eyes. I have heard it all now. A play date.
‘So you mean, Ursula is going to babysit for a while at her place? Why didn’t you just say that? What’s with all these fancy ‘new-age mummy’ terms? What is happening to you?’
Flo laughs. She knows I have a point. It’s the type of thing the two of us would have sneered at before Billie came along, only because we were secretly jealous, of course, and would love to be in the whole baby club. Now she is in that club up to her neck, though it’s not exactly how she had planned it.
‘Oh your day will come, Miss Power Suit,’ she tells me. ‘I bet you will be making up your own terms for mummy issues when you have a little ankle-biter. Now, let me see you.’
She has unravelled all the rollers and, I have to say, she has done a great job on my hair and my make-up is so subtle and effortless, which is exactly what I wanted for today. For the last ten years of her career, Flo was one of the city’s most sought-after top stylists and beauticians, but had to work part time from home when little Billie came along and the aptly named Damien (think The Omen) she made him with did a runner. It’s how I met her. She cut my hair for my job interview at Powers and we have been best friends ever since.
‘Oh you’re a star,’ I tell her, loosening the curls with my fingers. My hair is well grown down, which is just how I like it and the curls give it just a little bit of bounce. ‘I could never have done that in a million years. Now, do you still think jeans and a nice top? Or should I go summer dress? It’s not too bad outside. Or maybe I should glam it up just a wee bit? You know, show an effort?’
Flo is concerned. I know she is. She does this thing with her nose, like a tiny twitch, when she is hesitant or a bit anxious about something. I’m trying to control my nervous excitement but we know each other too well to keep any secrets.
‘Remember, Maggie. This is not a date.’
‘I know it’s not! He has a wife, for goodness sake, and a pregnant one at that. Plus, in case you didn’t notice, I am in no fit state to be on a date, but I just want to look nice. You would too!’
‘I just want you to be careful,’ says Flo, hoisting little Billie on to her hip like it’s the most natural thing in the world. I’m constantly amazed at how motherhood totally transforms a woman and I can’t help but wish that woman one day soon will be me. Though not like Flo. I want the man too, if you don’t mind, but I’m not exactly going in the right direction for that – with a failed marriage behind me.
‘It’s like this,’ I explain, hoping to reassure her. ‘Simon is the brother of the little girl who gave me life. I have had so many issues and struggles with trying to close the door on Lucy Harte for seventeen years now. She has haunted me forever and this might be my ticket to let her go.’
I sigh from the tips of my toes and get my coat, ignoring for now the chocolate finger prints that Billie has kindly left on it for me. Just as well this coat wasn’t part of my planned outfit for later this afternoon.
‘Simon gets into the city at two; we are having some pub grub and a chat at The John Hewitt after that. It’s all very cool and it’s all very casual and if you insist on sitting at a table in a corner in case he murders me in a public place, then so be it. I know what I am doing, Flo. Believe me.’
She walks me to the door and I give her a light hug, then kiss Billie very quickly on the cheek. There is no way I am risking kid snot or dribble on my newly applied make-up.
‘Say what you want but I will be there just in case,’ she says.
‘Say what you want but you’re just nosey,’ I say, walking to my car. ‘You’re dying to check him out all for yourself.’
She expertly pinches Billie’s snot and wipes it on her shirt.
‘Believe me, sunshine,’ she says in earnest. ‘Gawping at a man is the last thing on my mind right now. Go get ready. I’ll be the one in the long trench coat. Just call me Jessica Fletcher.’
I am early. I couldn’t settle at home and I’ve been ‘ready’ for at least an hour, so I thought the best thing to do was just come here and wait. I do feel like it’s an awkward blind date, even though I know it couldn’t be anything more different. I chose my outfit carefully, a little too carefully perhaps, but I think I’ve got just about the right balance. Not too dressy, not too casual. The sun was shining and there was a hint of summer in the air as I drove here, which made my white jeans and pale-blue chiffon blouse feel just perfect for the occasion.
The occasion… what on earth is this occasion anyhow?
I am pondering this to myself when I see Flo come into the bar and she takes a seat and then hides her face behind a menu. I catch her eye and shake my head in laughter. She orders a drink from the waiter and then gives me the thumbs-up. I may have wound her up for doing this but now she is here I actually do feel a bit more settled. I am meeting a total stranger in very emotional circumstances, after all, so it’s good to know she has my back, should it, for whatever reason, go horribly wrong.
I get the waiter’s attention and ask for a tall gin and tonic. I need some Dutch courage now – more than I’ve ever done in my entire life.
‘Are you there yet?’ It’s a text from Simon.
‘I’m here,’ I message back. ‘I’m early.’
‘Good, so am I,’ he replies. The waiter returns and is just placing my drink on the table when I see him.
Jesus.
It really is him. Not Jesus, no, but Simon Harte, Lucy’s brother, walking towards me right here, right now. I smile. I breathe. I glance over at Flo who is staring at him like he is the Second Coming.
I wave. He waves back and smiles and runs his hand through his hair, looking as nervous as I feel.
This is so, so surreal. I stand up to greet him. He is tall. Boy, but he is tall. I swallow back a rainbow of emotions and I can’t hear anything now. The muffled sounds of cutlery and background music and people chatting fade into the background. Everything sounds and looks like a blur. I can see nothing and I can hear nothing. Nothing. Only him. It’s like time has stood still and it is making me very dizzy.
‘Maggie,’ he says, in his soft Scottish brogue. ‘Maggie, Maggie, Maggie.’
His eyes fill with tears and mine do too. He keeps saying my name, whispering it and then he kisses me lightly on the cheek.
‘I… I have to say thank you, Simon,’ I mumble. ‘I just really want to say thank you to you and
