Jake always did his best not to dwell on the past. There lay bad things – a life with Eleanor and his child that would never be. He tried his best to stay in the here and now, which was always a hell of a lot easier when he was round Faye and Natty. It was why he volunteered to babysit at every opportunity.
Faye turned to her daughter. ‘Natty? Can you remember what you said to Jake last night?’
Jake turned to look at Natty. She was concentrating intently on moving her fork towards her mouth without losing the large piece of omelette that was balanced on top.
‘Natty?’ Faye said sharply.
Natty quickly turned her head. ‘No, I don’t remember.’ She turned her attention back to her fork. There was no omelette.
Jake looked at Faye. He shrugged his shoulders, as if to say,See?I told you she wouldn’t remember calling me Daddy. He turned back to Natty. ‘Is the omelette nice?’
‘Oh, yes. It’s the best omelette I’ve ever had.’
There was a sigh from the other side of the table.
Jake caught Faye rolling her eyes at her daughter. ‘I thought my omelettes were the best.’
Natty just shrugged.
‘Well, seeing as you like it so much,’ said Jake, rather enjoying the praise and the little bit of well-intentioned banter, ‘I could pop round another day and make breakfast again.’ There was none of this banter at his own home, where he’d moved for a fresh start. He lived alone and missed this sort of thing. When he closed his front door, the silence was overwhelming. He still hadn’t got used to it, and had realised, after several months, that he probably never would.
‘Would you like that?’ he asked Natty, before immediately realising he was asking the wrong person. ‘Um, Faye, would you mind awfully if I popped in another time to make Natty my speciality omelette?’
Natty put her fork down. ‘Mummy, can Jakey stay the night again? Then he’d be here in the morning to make breakfast.’
Jake noticed that Faye didn’t answer. He stepped into the awkward silence. ‘This was just a one-off, sweetheart.’
‘Why?’
Jake resisted a smile. He’d never heard that word so much in his life before he’d met Natty. He answered her question while Faye finished her omelette. ‘Mummy was home very late last night from her course because she got held up in traffic.’
‘So?’
That was another word he heard quite a bit at Faye’s house, most often when Natty didn’t like the answer to her question.
Natty said, ‘Are you and Mummy getting back together?’
Jake didn’t understand the question, ‘I’m sorry – what?’ He caught Faye looking at her daughter quizzically. She said, ‘What do you mean?’
‘My friend Annabelle said her dad is coming back to live with her mum.’
Faye dropped her fork.
Jake stole a furtive glance at Faye. Her eyes were closed, and she was furiously rubbing her temples with her fingertips as though she had a sudden migraine.
‘Er … Natty,’ Jake turned in his chair to look at her. She was still quite happily tucking into her breakfast, unaware of the furore her innocent question had the potential to unleash. ‘What makes you think I used to live with your mum?’ Jake chose his words carefully.
‘Well, Annabelle’s dad sees Annabelle at the weekends over at his house,’ said Natty, ‘and now he is moving back in with her mummy.’
‘Honey, I haven’t ever … er … lived here.’ Jake looked over at Faye.
‘We moved house,’ Natty said matter-of-factly.
‘Natty.’ Faye sat forward in her chair. ‘Jake didn’t live with us in the last house. You must remember.’
Jake stared at Natty. By the sound of things, when her real dad had left, she had only been three years old. Faye had said herself that Natty didn’t really remember him.
‘But you see me at the weekend.’
