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“I know, and I’m sorry, Will, but I have no other choice. I can’t let her go into care. Yours isn’t the only awful story I’ve heard. You know Andy went into care for a little while.” She shook her head. “Of course, you know. That’s where you originally met, wasn’t it.”
It was true. Andy and I had been in the same kid’s home when we were thirteen. Her mum had gone missing, and I’d been sent back by another foster family because I was too much for them. Andy was only there a month or so, and then Miriam came for her. I stayed another two years until Mrs Powell fostered me until I was eighteen. Then, a year later, Andy and I bumped into each other at the pub I was working at, and we got together that same night.
I thought about Mrs Powell and wondered whether she could maybe take the baby. She was almost seventy, and I’d been thelast kid she fostered. I still had dinner with her once a week and saw how much her joints hurt and how bent her fingers were getting, so I knew deep down that it wouldn’t be fair to ask her. I also knew that to help me, she’d say yes without even thinking about it.
“I am sorry, Will.” Miriam’s voice was soft and full of emotion, and I realised it must have been hard for her, too.
I stopped pacing and looked at her. “How long do you have?” I asked.
“Not long. Six months at most. It’s bowel cancer that I foolishly didn’t get checked out. This big coat hides the fact that I’m skin and bone underneath, and then there’s the miracle of makeup.”
As I looked at her, I could now see how sunken those bright blue eyes were and how pale her skin was beneath the blusher on her cheeks.
“If it helps, I’ve left everything to Maddy—my house, my car, my money. There’s enough for you to be able to take care of her, as well as some going into trust for when she goes to university.”
I vaguely recalled Andy telling me that her Aunt Miriam was well off. Her late husband had been some sort of financial wizard who’d made a fortune in investments. When he died of a heart attack at just fifty-four, Miriam had become a wealthy widow.
“Will, I always regret that I couldn’t help Andy’s mum get off the drink and drugs. I’ll always regret that Andy had to spend a single day of her life feeling scared or alone because my sister refused my help or to even talk to me. When I took Andy home from that children’s home, I vowed that she’d never suffer ever again, and that now includes Maddy. If I could change anything I would, but when I got my diagnosis just after Andy’s death, I knew that you were the only person who I could trust that baby with.”
“Even I don’t know if you can trust me, Miriam,” I cried. “I know nothing about babies.”
“You can come and live with me, and I’ll show you the ropes. It’ll give you some time to adjust before I’m gone. Some time with some support.”
I looked up to the sky and wondered what the fuck I’d done to deserve this shit to be landed on me. Then again what had Maddy done to deserve it too?
“When I get ill, you won’t need to take care of me. I’ve organized for a nurse, and if necessary, a place in a hospice.”
I looked at her and could see the weight of everything was firmly on her sloping shoulders. If nothing else, I supposed I could do it until she was gone—to give her some peace. Then, maybe, if it was tough, I could think about putting Maddy into care. She was a baby; she’d get a nice family who’d want to love her. Yeah, that’s what I’d do—play the game until Miriam was gone, and then get my life back. I could make sure I didn’t fall in love with her. I never fell in love. Two weeks was my max, after all.
“Okay,” I sighed. “You’d better give me your address, and I’ll be around tomorrow.”
Miriam sighed, and a serene smile broke out over her face. I knew at least I’d given her some peace for the time that she had left.
Chapter One
Will
17 Years Later
“Shit,” I hissed as I snatched my watch up from my bedside table. I threw back the duvet and dropped my feet to the floor. “Maddy, sweetheart, you’d better get up. We’re late.”
Grabbing yesterday’s jeans from the floor, I pulled them on and then snagged a t-shirt, quickly smelling it to make sure it would survive at least the school run. Thank fuck I only had one more year of battling with the mums who all wanted a fucking piece of my arse.
I didn’t have to take Maddy to school, but it seemed ridiculous not to when my bar was only around the corner from it. The problem was, at only thirty-seven and still being in great shape—even if I did say so myself—they surrounded my car like flies on shit. It was a wonder I wasn’t a stone heavier with all the cakes and pies they gave to me. As for the sexual propositions, I felt violated daily. One woman even bruised my arse after Maddyleft her bag in my car, and I had to run after her with it. She had an iron grip, and I didn’t think she was going to let go.
“Dad,” Maddy’s yell made my ears ring. “Get your arse out of bed, or we’re going to be late.”
I shook my head and ran down the stairs to where her voice was coming from. When I skidded into the kitchen, I wasn’t surprised to see she was already tucking into her breakfast, with mine waiting for me at the place opposite hers at the kitchen table.
“Morning, sweetheart.” I grinned as I sat down and picked up the spoon for my cereal. “I should have known you’d be up and ready.”
My seventeen-year-old daughter rolled her eyes and then grinned. Damn, she was beautiful. She looked a lot like her mum, but a lot like my mum too because Maddy had her smile.Mysmile and my lips.
“Did you do pay roll?” she asked.
“Yep. Sure did.” I took a spoonful of cereal and watched as she delicately nibbled her toast.
She may have been brought up by a neanderthal, but I’d taught her manners. In fact, I taught her a lot; manners, how to punch a guy who made her feel uncomfortable, how to put a mean girl down with one short sentence, and most importantly how to make the best damn Long Island Iced Tea known to man.
