Well, that fitted with what she’d said in her letter. Great. So not only had Jo dumped Matilda without warning, which was quite bad enough, she’d also defaulted on her rent—even though he paid her more than enough every month to cover that and her living expenses. And that was on top of her emptying his savings account yesterday morning—
‘So who are you, then?’ the landlord asked.
‘I’m Matilda’s father. I’m just here to get her stuff and I’m as much in the dark about where Jo is as you are.’
He folded his arms. ‘Well, someone’s got to pay the rent. I’ll let you off one month because I’ve got the deposit and there doesn’t seem to be any damage, but I want the rest.’
‘That’s fine, I’ll pay it,’ he said heavily. Frankly, a month’s rent was the least of his worries. Her ‘sorry about all the money’ had made him check his accounts last night and find she’d stripped his savings account—not that there had been much in it, but there was nothing now. She must have got his bank details from his phone when he’d seen her last week on Tilly’s birthday. That would teach him not to be so trusting.
Teach him a lot of things, but on the plus side she hadn’t emptied his current account which meant he had enough—just—to pay the landlord and get through the rest of the month. He should probably be thankful for small mercies, but he didn’t feel thankful. She’d no doubt sold the car as well. Well, he’d have to pay the outstanding rent, but that was it. He certainly wasn’t funding her travelling—or at least any more of it than he already inadvertently had, and he’d had to change all his passwords last night which was a real pain.
He put Matilda down and got out his phone to transfer the money to the landlord, and she toddled off, calling for her mother and looking puzzled.
‘Where Mummy?’
He swallowed the lump in his throat and picked her up again. ‘She’s not here, sweetheart, she’s had to go away so you’re going to come and live with me all the time now, and I’m not going anywhere,’ he said softly, propping her on the worktop while he dealt with the landlord, then he threw all the things Jo had left for Matilda into the bags he’d brought with him, scooped his daughter up again and walked out, seething with anger, disappointment, regret—a whole catalogue of conflicting emotions that had already kept him awake half the night.
Now all he had to do was talk to HR and work out how he was going to juggle his job and childcare commitments, but first he needed a friendly ear—and a shoulder to cry on?
No point in crying over spilt milk, even if it felt like Jo had dumped an entire dairy on his head. But the friendly ear he could definitely do with.
* * *
Emily was trying to stop Zach spreading banana everywhere when her phone rang for the second time in quick succession. She nearly didn’t answer it, but Zach had finished eating now, so she wiped her fingers and pulled the phone out of her pocket.
‘Jake, give me a second. I’m covered in banana.’
There was a muffled laugh from the other end, and she turned on the speaker and grabbed the wet wipe that Zach was stuffing in his mouth. ‘Don’t laugh at me. You have no idea how far he can spread it. So, how goes it?’
Another laugh, this time wry. ‘Not great. Look, I’m not far from you. Can I drop in and scrounge a coffee?’
‘Yeah, sure. Jake, are you OK?’
‘Not really. I’ll tell you in a minute. Stick the kettle on.’
‘Will do. Grab some milk, please? I’m almost out.’
‘OK. See you shortly.’
The phone went dead, and she stared at it, then shrugged and handed Zach a toy to play with while she cleared up the sitting room and worried about Jake.
He’d sounded odd. Sort of taut, like he was about to snap, which was so unlike him. He was always so easy-going, so relaxed and unfazed by anything. Chewing her lip, she plumped the cushions, scooped up the washing she’d been sorting, dumped it back in the basket and went back to tackle the kitchen.
She’d just finished loading the dishwasher when she heard him pull up, and she opened the front door as he got out of the car with a shopping bag in his hand. ‘That was quick,’ she began, but then she saw his expression and the words dried up in her throat.
He looked awful.
His face was a mask, the tension coming off him in waves, and she pulled him inside, put her arms around him and hugged him hard.
‘What on earth’s happened?’ she asked softly, and she felt the sigh shudder through him.
‘Jo’s dumped Matilda with me—well, strictly speaking she left her in the hospital café—and she’s walked out of her life.’
Emily felt her jaw drop and she let him go and took a step back so she could read his eyes, and saw confusion and white-hot rage. ‘She what? How? Why?’
His shoulders jerked in a shrug. ‘Who knows? She’s gone travelling, of all things. She left me a note in the buggy apologising. She’s got a new man, apparently, and the landlord said they were picked up by some dude with a battered old campervan, so presumably that’s him. God knows what she’s done with the car I bought her. Sold it to fund the travelling, I expect, and she also owed rent that I had to pay, and cleaned out my savings account.’
‘That’s outrageous!’
‘Tell me about it, but that’s not what’s making me so mad. Don’t get me wrong, Em, I’m not thrilled, but it’s only money. It’s the fact that she just abandoned Matilda in the café that makes me so furious. Thank goodness Ben Walker was there. Apparently she saw his name badge and realised who he was, so she introduced herself and asked him to keep an eye on Tilly while she put a ticket on the car, and then she didn’t come back. What if he hadn’t been there, Em? Was she just going to rely on someone finding the envelope before something dreadful happened to her? What if she’d been abducted?’
He raked a hand through his hair in frustration. ‘I’m so angry I don’t know where to start, but she said she couldn’t tell me because I’d talk her out of it and she knew this was the best thing for everyone. I suppose I should just be grateful she didn’t take Matilda with her—oh, and the icing on the cake is she wants to keep in touch. Well, we’ll see about that,’ he added furiously, finally grinding to a halt.
‘Oh, Jake,’ she said softly. ‘I’m so sorry. How is Matilda? Is she all right?’
Another shrug. ‘I suppose. A bit unsettled but she’s used to being with me so she’s not too bad—yet. How she’ll be down the line I have no idea. We’ve just come from the house and she was wandering round asking where her mummy was. I’ll bring her in in a minute, I just wanted to tell you all this out of her earshot because I don’t want to make it worse, but I had to unload before I blow a fuse. I know she’s only just two but who knows what she’s making of all this?’
‘I can’t imagine. Oh, poor little girl—and poor you! Bring her in and I’ll make coffee. Is there milk in that bag?’
‘Yeah, and a packet of giant triple-chocolate cookies, still warm. I need serious comfort food.’
‘We’d better get started, then,’ she said with a little laugh, and retrieved Zach before he crawled over the step and fell onto the path. ‘Go and get her, I’ll put the kettle on.’
* * *
She took