‘No,’ I reply, and I wonder if it’s telling that the thought of getting Maya something hadn’t even crossed my mind. ‘It’s for my daughter.’
‘What a lucky girl she is. Are you thinking of it for a special occasion?’
‘It’s her fifteenth birthday soon. I’ve been out of work for a while but now I’ve got a job, I’m thinking I might just push the boat out.’
‘Well, if you don’t mind me saying, it’s absolutely the right thing to do. Teenagers can be so picky, can’t they? Still, I can’t imagine she won’t be wowed by this – I know I would be and I’m thirty-five!’
I nod and smile. ‘Thanks.’
‘It’s such a special age, isn’t it – fifteen? Your whole life in front of you and no idea just how truly beautiful you are. I bet she’s a real daddy’s girl, isn’t she?’
‘Just a bit.’
‘Have you any photos?’
‘Erm, no, my phone has been playing up and it lost a load.’
‘Oh that is a shame. I bet she’s gorgeous though.’
‘She is, she’s stunning.’
The young woman behind the counter smiles. ‘A stunning piece for a stunning girl,’ she says. ‘So, would you like me to ring it up at the till for you?’
As much as I’d love to be buying this necklace for Leila, the truth is every last penny I’ll get on payday, and every one that follows for the foreseeable future, will be eaten up paying back money I borrowed on the credit card, from payday loan companies and of course Maya. I’ll be lucky if I can still afford bus fare, let alone flashy presents for a daughter I never see.
‘I need to have a little think about it,’ I tell the young woman, knowing full well that I won’t be coming back. ‘I’m sure she’ll love it but it pays to be sure.’
I met Leila’s mum during what I suppose were my darkest days. Living in a dingy shared house on the outskirts of town and still reeling from the shock of losing Helen, my days and nights passed by in a blur of drink and drugs in a bid to numb the pain. Simone had thought she could save me from myself and for a while I’d believed her. She made me happier than I ever thought I had the right to be but while it calmed down my excesses for a time, in the end the lure of oblivion proved too strong a force for me to resist. Time and again I promised to change, and time and again I broke those promises in two. But then she found out she was pregnant and her desire to protect our baby proved stronger than her desire to rescue me, and suddenly there were no more chances left.
Whilst I’d never given up trying to see Leila, at times I’d almost given up hope I ever would. Simone was adamant that she wouldn’t let me be part of Leila’s life. Not that I blamed her, after all before Leila was born she’d heard me promise to turn my life around countless times, only to fail within days if not hours of making my vow. Why would things be any different just because I was a father now? I tried to convince her that I could change but she mustn’t have believed me because the next time I went round to the house, both she and all her belongings were gone, and I never saw her again.
About a year later I got a letter from her post-marked Dundee. She didn’t say very much. It was really just a quick message to let me know that she and the baby were fine and that she’d named our daughter Leila. She wrote that she’d asked a friend of a friend to post the letter for her and that I shouldn’t bother trying to find her in Dundee or anywhere else. Then she finished off by wishing me well and telling me that she hoped I’d get help dealing with my demons. The only other item in the envelope was a photograph of a baby girl, a baby girl that could’ve been Helen’s double when she was a few months old. I stopped drinking that same day and the drugs too, and I haven’t touched either since for nearly fourteen years. Once again it was a case of too little too late, but it really was the wake-up call I needed.
Despite not having met Leila in person, I’ve never forgotten a birthday yet, thanks to a ritual I’ve developed over the years: a week or two before the big day I buy her something special, something only her dad would think to get, and then I wrap it up and put it away for the day when I see her. That way she’ll get the presents owed to her and there’ll be proof that I was always thinking about her, even if I wasn’t actually part of her life. Obviously it’s not the greatest plan in the world – I can’t begin to imagine what use a teenager will have for a set of second-hand Ladybird fairy-tale books – but it is, as they say, the thought that counts – and right now thoughts are all I’ve got to work with.
6
James
‘We really ought to be getting off,’ says my dad, Don. ‘You know what the blasted traffic around Heathrow can be like. You almost wonder what it is the government actually do with all that road tax we pay them.’
‘Of course, Don,’ says my mum sadly. She puts her arms around me and hugs me. Even without being able to see her face I know that she is crying. ‘You promise you will call us if you need anything at all, won’t you, James?’
‘No, he won’t,’ says Martha speaking for me, even though I am standing right here. ‘Mum, if James needs anything at all, he’ll call me not you because you’ll be too busy enjoying your holiday with Dad. The home has got all of my contact details and those of my PA too, Mum. I promise, if James needs the slightest thing, I’ll know about it straight away and whatever it is I’ll get it sorted.’
Martha gives me a look. A look like she wants me to say something. A look like she wants me to tell my mum, Erica, that I will be okay so that she will not be sad about going on holiday.
‘Martha is right,’ I say, even though I do not think it is true. ‘I will be fine, Mum. If I need anything, Martha will get it for me. You and Dad should go and have a nice time.’
My mum looks into my eyes almost as if she is looking for something inside my head. ‘I love you,’ she says after a long while and so I say I love you back, and she lets go of me so that my dad can give me a hug. ‘We’ll be back before you know it,’ he says, ‘and then you can tell us about all the amazing things you’ve done while we’ve been away.’
It was Martha who changed everybody’s mind.
First she worked on me and said that Mum and Dad were not as young as they used to be. She said that they needed lots of rest and that although they loved looking after me, it was hard work for them. When she said this, I felt guilty because I knew it was probably true. My parents are not as young as they used to be and I am hard work. Most parents do not have sons or daughters my age living with them. And if they do, they can probably look after themselves and do not need caring for. But I do. I need caring for.
Then she worked on my parents but they were more difficult. Martha told my dad to take a look at the care home for himself, and so a week later he and Martha went for a visit. It must have gone well because when he came back he was smiling. ‘Wouldn’t mind staying there for a week myself,’ he joked, when my mum asked what it was like. I think hearing my dad talk like that about the care home made Mum feel like it might actually be okay because the very next day she told Martha that she would not mind going on the holiday after all.