She loves you to bits, and I know how much you love her, and you can give her a better life than I’ll ever be able to. I’d like to keep in touch with her and see her when I can, but please don’t try and contact me to talk me out of it. I know you would, that’s why I couldn’t tell you to your face, but I know this is the right thing for everyone, and I’m really sorry about all the money.
Love her for me.
J
Nothing else, except a key in the envelope. Ben held it out silently, and he frowned. The key to her house? Of course. With all Tilly’s stuff in it. No doubt she’d left already—and what was that about all the money? All what money?
‘This is crazy. She can’t just walk out on Matilda. I’ll call her.’ He pulled out his phone, rang her number and got no answer. Great. He looked back at Ben.
‘I can’t get her. She’s not picking up.’
‘Do you want me to call Security in case something’s happened to her?’ Ben asked, but Jake shook his head, realising the futility of it as it started to sink in.
‘No point. She’s gone, Ben. She’s left us.’ He pressed a kiss to his daughter’s tangled, sweaty hair, his love for her overwhelming him. ‘It’s just you and me, Tils,’ he murmured, ‘but that’s OK, I’ll look after you. Daddy loves you. We’ll be OK.’ He kissed her again, and she burrowed tighter into him, her little legs tucked up against his side, arms tight around his neck.
‘You need to go home,’ Ben said softly.
‘How? I’m in the middle of a clinic, and it’s only Monday. What about the rest of the week? I can’t just walk out.’
‘Don’t worry about work, someone’ll do your clinic today and we’ll sort the rota out. Your daughter needs to come first. And I’ll get Security to locate and copy all the CCTV images of Jo from the time she arrived to the time she left. Just in case you need them for any reason in the future.’
He nodded, the implications of Jo’s actions beginning to sink in as anger took the place of shock. If she loved Matilda, as she’d said she did, then how could she just dump her like that, without talking to him first?
Because she knew he would have tried to talk her out of it. She’d been right about that. Right about him taking care of her, too, but how? How could he? He had a full-time job, with irregular hours and huge responsibilities. He couldn’t just drop everything. It wasn’t fair on his colleagues or his patients. And in any case, he had a mortgage to pay—assuming she hadn’t totally emptied his bank accounts and put him into overdraft right at the beginning of the month. Was that what she’d meant? Panic swamped him for a moment, but he fought it down.
At least Matilda was all right, but what if she hadn’t been? Jo had only left her with Ben because she’d recognised his name. If he hadn’t been there, would she still have left her? Anything could have happened to her. Someone could have taken her—
He felt a wave of nausea and swallowed hard. ‘Thank God you were here, Ben, but what if you hadn’t been? What if someone had taken her?’ he said, but Ben just shook his head.
‘Don’t go there, Jake. Just take her home,’ he said softly, so Jake took the key from him and put it on his keyring, then made a quick detour to pick up his things from his office before heading off to sort out the chaos his life had just become.
* * *
The following morning he went to her house, but it was empty apart from the landlord’s furniture and a small pile of Matilda’s things—her clothes, her toys and books, a few birthday cards and half a packet of nappies all stacked in the hall. Oh, and the landlord, who was delighted to see him.
‘She owes me two months’ rent,’ the man said bluntly. ‘I told her yesterday morning I’d call today to collect it, but she’s gone. That’s all that’s left, those things there of the little tot’s. I’m just waiting for a locksmith. Apparently she was seen leaving yesterday afternoon with the child and a man in a battered old campervan, and the neighbours said he’s been around a lot recently.’
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