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Five Winters(59)

Author:Kitty Johnson

We sat together for a moment, sipping our drinks. Then he asked, “Done all the dreaded Christmas shopping?”

“Most of it. Just the difficult ones left.”

“I bet they’re for men.”

I smiled at him. “They are, actually. How did you guess?” Mark and Gary, Sylvia’s boyfriend. Man friend. Gentleman caller. I hadn’t made up my mind how to refer to him yet.

“We’re difficult buggers,” Jake joked.

“What about you? Have you done yours?”

He nodded. “I’ve been a good boy. Got it done early. Though the kids only wanting money made it easier.”

“What have you got for Tish?”

Jake’s face lit up. Clearly, he was very pleased with whatever he’d bought for his girlfriend. “Ah, well, I’m not sure I ought to say. It’s a surprise, and she did say she might pop over this evening.”

Right on cue, the door opened, and Tish came in.

“Speak of the devil,” Jake said, opening his arms to give her a kiss.

“Who are you calling a devil?” Tish asked, wrapping her arms around him and kissing him back. “Hi, Beth. You all right?”

“Hi, Tish. Yes, I’m fine, thank you. Just thawing out.”

“Tell me about it. It’s almost too cold for the bike.”

Like Jake, Tish rode a motorbike. Also like Jake, she wore a leather jacket and had several tattoos, only hers were mainly of Disney characters and inspirational quotes.

Tish and Jake had met at a motorbike club in the spring and clicked straightaway. I was really happy for them. Jake was a good friend. I was glad nothing had happened between us—I’d have been using him if it had. Using sex to try to make myself feel better after the debacle with Mark. If Jake and I had gone to bed, we’d have been awkward with each other afterwards. Too awkward for me to volunteer at the centre. And that would have been a great shame.

I went over to the sink to wash my mug up. “Mind if I get off a bit early? I’m meeting up with Rosie to see the Regent Street lights.”

“Sure,” said Jake. “No problem. Tell her hi from me. And you have a great Christmas, yeah?”

I went over to give both him and Tish a peck on the cheek. “Thanks. And a very happy Christmas to you too.”

“See you in the New Year.”

I nodded, a tingle of excitement stirring in my belly at the thought of New Year. I hadn’t told Jake anything about my plans, in case they didn’t work out. I hadn’t told anyone about them except for Naomi and Rosie. And even they didn’t know I’d got an official date through, because I’d received the letter only today. I was going to tell Rosie tonight.

Rosie herself called me when I was waiting for the bus.

“You’re not ringing to cancel on me, are you?”

“Of course not. I’m ringing to tell you . . .”

“Hello, Bethy,” came a familiar voice in the background.

“Giorgio?”

“Yes,” said Rosie. “This one turned up out of the blue. Mind if he tags along with us?”

“Of course I don’t. It will be lovely to see him.”

“You see, cara,” I heard Giorgio say. “I told you this.”

I laughed. “The bus is coming. I’ll see you both under the Christmas tree.”

“Under the tree.”

“Ciao, Bethy.”

I was still smiling as I got on the bus and swiped my Oyster card. Giorgio coming along might mean I wouldn’t be able to tell Rosie my news, but it made me so happy to see my friend with her love. Last Christmas, Giorgio had surprised Rosie by declaring that he wanted a relationship with her more than he wanted to be a father, and ever since then, they’d spent every possible minute they could with each other, flying back and forth between London and Rome. Which meant I hadn’t seen her as much as I usually did, obviously, so the first hour of any meetup we managed to organise was always a sort of breathless catch-up. Especially after I joined Tinder.

Rosie loved hearing about my dating escapades. Though there hadn’t been any of those to talk about since July, not since Tom.

Just as I thought of Tom, my phone rang, and his name appeared on the caller display. I was tempted to reject the call, but experience told me my ex-boyfriend would only keep calling until I answered if I did that.

“Hi, Tom. I can’t speak just now; I’m on my way somewhere.”

“Oh. I hoped I could pop round with your Christmas present.”

I couldn’t hide my dismay. “Tom, we agreed we wouldn’t buy each other presents.”

“I know, but I didn’t think you really meant it. And I saw something perfect for you. I had to get it.”

“Well, that’s very kind, but I haven’t got anything for you because we agreed not to buy anything for each other.”

“That’s all right. I don’t expect anything.”

But that wasn’t true. Tom did expect something—me to relent about my decision and start dating him again if he only wore me down enough. It was never going to work. I’d told him so. Over and over again.

I really wished I hadn’t been persuaded to start dating. But January and February had been particularly bleak months, which was probably why I’d been receptive to Naomi’s suggestion.

When Clare’s home visits had started up again in the New Year, I’d been feeling low after my disastrous Christmas. And one look at her grim expression told me she’d spoken to Jaimie and that his report on my mothering skills hadn’t been favourable.

“What did he say about me?” I asked her.

“I can’t tell you that. It’s confidential.”

I stared at the floor, so frustrated I could have screamed. I wanted to try to explain to her how difficult and unresponsive the girls had been. How very hard I’d tried. That being a stepmother was one of the most challenging things I’d ever done.

But then she said it herself: “Look, I know how challenging it can be to be a stepparent, especially in a situation where the children still hope their parents will get back together.”

“Yes,” I said with feeling, but Clare swept on.

“But being an adoptive parent can be much more challenging than that. No matter how inadequate a child’s parents have been, they are still that child’s parents, and the child is still likely to long for them. Miss them. Illogical as it is, they may even blame you for their being taken away from them. This is unlikely to last forever, of course, but it could last long enough for you to start to wonder whether you’ve done the right thing.”

“My relationship with Jaimie’s daughters wasn’t part of the reason Jaimie and I split up,” I said, not wanting Clare to think I didn’t have sticking power. “If it hadn’t been for . . . other circumstances, I would have persisted with them. They may never have viewed me like a second mother, but I don’t think they’d have gone on resenting me.”

But Clare latched on to the earlier part of what I’d said.

“Yes, as to those circumstances you mention, Mr. Faulkner intimated that one of the reasons your relationship ended was because you told him you had feelings for somebody else. And yet, when we spoke about this before Christmas, I don’t think you mentioned that?”

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