‘I’m trying my best.’
‘Bridgette, you’re not listening to me. My mum could have gone along with Dad—she could have had a far easier life if she hadn’t been a single mum bringing up a special-needs child. Chris could have been slotted into a home. Instead he went to one when he was eighteen, to a sheltered home with friends, and my mother did it so that he’d have a life, a real one. She did not want him to have to start over in thirty years or so when she was gone. She thought out everything and that included looking out for herself. What I said was you have to do the best for you—you have to look out for yourself in this…’
Dominic gritted his teeth in frustration as he could see that she didn’t understand what he meant and knew that he would have to make things clear. ‘The best thing that could happen is that Courtney suddenly becomes responsible and gets well suddenly, becomes responsible and looks after Harry properly—and we both know that’s not going to happen. Now, you can run yourself ragged chasing after Courtney, living your life ready to step in, or you can work out the life you want and what you’re prepared to do.’
She still didn’t get it.
‘Bridgette, she could have another baby. She could be pregnant right now!’ She closed her eyes. It was something she thought about late at night sometimes, that this could be ongoing, that there could be another Harry, or a little Harriet, or twins. ‘Come away with me on Saturday,’ he said. ‘Come for the weekend, just to see…’
‘What about Arabella?’
‘What about her?’ Dominic said. ‘I told her last night the same thing I told her when we had coffee on Saturday. We’re through. And I’ve told her that I’m blocking her from my phone.’ He knew he was pushing it, but this time he said it. ‘You could be my moll!’
‘I’ve got other things to think about right now.’
‘Yes,’ he said as he pulled up at her door. ‘You do.’
And she didn’t ask him in, and neither did he expect her to, but he did pull her into his arms and kiss her.
‘Don’t…’ She pulled her head back.
‘It’s a kiss.’
‘A kiss that’s going nowhere,’ she said. ‘I’m not very good at one-night stands, in case you didn’t work it out. And I really think the holiday is over…’
‘Why won’t you let anyone in?’
‘Because I can’t stand being hurt again,’ Bridgette admitted. ‘And you and I…’ She was honest. ‘Well, it’s going to hurt, whatever way you look at it.’ And she did open up a bit, said what she’d thought all those days ago. ‘My life’s not exactly geared to hopping on planes.’
‘You only need to hop on one,’ Dominic said, and he was offering her the biggest out, an escape far more permanent than her flat.
‘Think about it,’ he said.
‘I can’t.’
‘Just think about it,’ Dominic said. ‘Please.’
He wished her all the very best for the next day, then drove down the road and pulled out his phone.
‘It’s Wednesday,’ Chris said. ‘Why are you ringing me on a Wednesday?’
‘I’m just ringing you,’ Dominic said. ‘It doesn’t only have to be on a Friday.’
‘It’s about Bridgette?’ Chris said, and Dominic couldn’t help a wry grin that he was ringing his brother for advice. ‘The one with the baby.’
‘It’s not her baby,’ Dominic said, because he’d explained about Harry as they’d walked along the beach.
‘But she loves him.’
‘Yep.’
‘Well, why can’t they come and live here?’
‘Because it’s not going to happen,’ Dominic said. ‘His mum loves him too.’
‘And you can’t stay there because you’re coming over on Saturday,’ Chris reminded him. ‘For my birthday.’ He heard the silence. ‘You said you would.’
‘I did.’
‘See you on Saturday,’ Chris said.
And Dominic did know how Bridgette felt—he was quite sure of that, because he felt it then too, thought of his brother all dressed up with his friends and his disappointment if he wasn’t there. He thought of Bridgette facing it alone.
‘You are coming?’ Chris pushed.
‘You know I am,’ Dominic said. ‘I’ll see you then.’
‘Are you still going to ring me on Friday?’ Chris said, because he loathed a change in routine.
‘Of course.’
‘HI, TONY!’ Dominic said the next morning. ‘Hi, Roman.’ He tried not to look at Harry, who was watching him from the next cot. He’d seen all the Joyce family head off to the conference room, Courtney marching in front, the parents, as Bridgette would say, joined at the hip, and an exhausted-looking Bridgette bringing up the rear.
‘Is this your last morning?’ Tony said, because it was common knowledge now that he was leaving.
‘No,’ Dominic said. ‘I’m on call tonight.’
‘Well, if I don’t see you I just want to be sure to thank you for everything with Roman and Esperanza and Maria,’ Tony said.
‘You’re very welcome,’ Dominic said. ‘How are they both doing?’
‘They’re amazing,’ Tony replied. ‘Maria’s a bit torn of course. She wants to be here more, but she doesn’t want to bring Esperanza here…’
‘Better not to,’ Dominic said. He finished examining Roman and told his father he was pleased with his progress and that hopefully by Monday Roman would be home.
‘It will be nice to have a full house again,’ Tony said. ‘Thought we couldn’t have children—three goes at IVF for the twins, then Roman surprises us and now Esperanza!’
Dominic carried on with his round and tried not to think what was going on in the conference room, tried not to think about the offer he had made last night.
Bridgette couldn’t not think about it.
She had pondered it all night, had been thinking about it in the car park for the hour she had waited to sort out her battery, and she was feeling neither hopeful nor particularly patient with her family. She sat there and the meeting went backwards and forwards, like some endless round of table tennis, getting nowhere. She listened to Courtney making excuses and promises again, watched her parents, who so badly wanted to believe their youngest daughter’s words. She listened to the social worker, who, Bridgette realised, was very willing for Harry’s aunt to support her sister—and of course she didn’t blame them; but she realised that no one was ever going to tell her that she was doing too much. She had to say it herself.
‘This