would I do that? I don’t like marmalade.’
Neve gave a shrug. ‘That’s why it would be a surprise.’
‘Where’s Dad?’ asked Poppy.
‘He’ll be down in a minute.’ As soon as the words left Neve’s mouth, she regretted them. Poppy would now be clock watching and if Kit didn’t arrive within the next sixty seconds, she would be chiding Neve for getting it wrong. Neve went for the distraction tactic.
‘Do you like my new dress?’ she said, stepping out from behind the breakfast bar and performing a theatrical twirl. ‘It’s not quite as bright as your top, but I thought the pale blue was pretty. A bit like the sky today.’
‘I don’t like blue.’
‘Not even this shade of blue?’
‘Dark blue, light blue, green-blue, black-blue. I don’t like any blue.’ Poppy took a bite of her toast.
Neve pulled a mock disappointed face and turned away before Poppy could see the small smile of amusement that was threatening. Neve knew Poppy well enough by now not to take offence at what she said. Poppy didn’t have the same thought filter as others. To Neve, it was just one of Poppy’s characteristics, whereas to others, it was disconcerting, borne out through ignorance and/or lack of empathy. It frustrated Neve to think that some people couldn’t see past this quirk and dismissed Poppy with words like ‘odd’ ‘weird’ and ‘strange’ or phrases like ‘not all there’ and ‘a bit slow’. She busied herself with opening the back door to let their 2-year-old Labrador in. ‘Willow likes my dress, don’t you, girl?’ said Neve, making a fuss of the dog, sending golden dog hairs floating to the floor. Willow had been an unexpected present from Kit two years ago. A fur-baby, as Neve’s friend Lucie had referred to the dog. ‘Your child substitute,’ she’d said, grinning.
It turned out that Lucie had been spot on with her observation, well, in as much as Kit had intended the gesture to reinforce his message to Neve that he had Poppy and when he’d said he didn’t want any more children, he’d meant it. However, Neve hadn’t yet given up hope of changing his mind.
‘I’m sitting next to Callum at lunch today,’ announced Poppy, distracting Neve from her thoughts.
‘Are you? That’s nice,’ said Neve, as Willow placed herself next to the bar stool and stared hopefully up at the toast. Neve poured her daughter a glass of apple juice as she tried to pluck Callum’s name from the filing cabinet of her mind.
Ah, yes, Callum.
Poppy had spoken about him a lot recently. He was new to St Joseph’s and from what Neve had gleaned from Poppy, he had just come out of mainstream education. Not dissimilar to Poppy’s own route to St Joseph’s. She’d had a hard time progressing through the education system and her transition into secondary school had been particularly painful. Twelve-year-olds weren’t as forgiving or accepting as primary school children; all Poppy’s needs were suddenly amplified and her coping mechanisms became inadequate. Her behaviour was sometimes unpredictable and her social skills under-developed, making her prime fodder for relentless teasing. Even though the Special Educational Needs team had tried to help Poppy, Kit and Neve had taken the decision to remove her from secondary school and send her to St Joseph’s where they had the resources, the time, the funding and the understanding. Poppy appeared to be thriving at the school so neither of them had regretted it for a moment.
‘He’s going to share his sandwiches with me,’ said Poppy, chomping on her toast. She wiped a splodge of jam from the corner of her mouth with her hand. ‘He has cucumber sandwiches.’
‘Just cucumber?’ Neve glanced at the clock, aware that Kit’s sixty seconds to put in an appearance were nearly up. Unfortunately, as she looked back at Poppy, Neve realised the time-check had not been missed.
‘Dad will be here in three seconds,’ said Poppy. ‘Two. One.’ She looked expectantly towards the door. ‘Dad?’
‘He won’t be long,’ said Neve. ‘Drink your apple juice.’ She slid the glass closer to Poppy.
‘You shouldn’t tell lies,’ said Poppy.
‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to. I meant approximately a minute.’
Poppy peered into her glass. ‘I don’t think blue suits you.’
Poppy’s honesty was as charming as it was painful at times. Neve had long since learned to take any negatives on the chin, but every now and again, it did hurt – just a little bit. She looked down at her dress. She’d only bought it last week and had loved it as soon as she had seen it. An unbidden wish to have a daughter who shared her likes and loves flicked through Neve’s mind, immediately followed by a rush of guilt. Neve wasn’t wishing Poppy was different, it was just sometimes the thought of another child, whose company was easier to navigate, made Neve yearn for that one thing her husband was denying her.
The sound of footsteps coming down the hall cancelled the need to take the conversation further. Kit came through into the kitchen, straightening his tie whilst carrying his jacket in the crook of his arm.
‘You’re late,’ said Poppy, without looking up at her father.
Neve exchanged a look with Kit. ‘Late?’ he queried and then dropped a kiss on his daughter’s head. ‘Morning, Poppy.’
‘You were supposed to be here about twenty seconds ago,’ said Neve, popping a coffee pod into the machine.
‘Twenty-five, actually,’ corrected Poppy.
‘Oops, sorry,’ said Kit. He moved around the central island counter and kissed Neve on the cheek. ‘What’s on the agenda for today?’
‘I have some shopping to do, then it’s the open afternoon at Poppy’s school.’ Kit’s blank expression told her he’d forgotten. Neve enlightened him. ‘Where we get to see the project they’ve been working on?’
‘Town and Country project,’ interjected Poppy. ‘You said you’d come.’
‘Ah, yes,’ said Kit, fiddling with his tie. ‘I did, didn’t I?’ He looked at Neve with a ‘help me out of this’ expression.
Neve was tempted to let him dig his own way out. Kit, of all people, should know that breaking a promise to Poppy wasn’t something that could be passed off easily. And why should it? Just because Poppy had a different perspective on life to most other people, why did he think it was OK to let her down? He’d been so distracted with his work lately, he seemed to be putting that above everything, including herself and Poppy. Neve had tried talking to Kit about it on several occasions, but he had been dismissive, saying Neve was over-reacting and he was just distracted while a new contract between the boat builders and marina was being negotiated. There was always some important contract being negotiated lately, Neve had thought wearily.
‘It’s not nice to break a promise,’ said Poppy, her head dipping lower as her gaze remained fixed on the contents of her glass.
‘I know, darling …’ Kit began. He held up his hands. ‘Sorry, I know I shouldn’t break a promise, but I have a really important meeting at work today. I can’t miss it.’
‘Can’t or won’t?’ Neve couldn’t help herself saying out loud, although the thought perhaps should have stayed in
