Boys Don't Cry (18 page)

‘Hello, Dante.’

I regarded the woman on my doorstep. She looked vaguely familiar. A few centimetres shorter than me, her black hair was tied back in a ponytail and she wore a grey skirt suit with a pink blouse. Her face was expertly made-up and she carried an outsized bag over her shoulder. It took a few seconds to place her.

‘Er . . . Veronica, isn’t it?’ I said. It was her eyes that helped me to identify her. She had the same almond-shaped eyes as Collette, her sister.

‘That’s right,’ she smiled. ‘May I come in?’

What on earth was Veronica doing here? ‘Is something wrong with Collette? Has she had an accident or something?’ I asked, concerned.

‘No, no. Nothing like that,’ Veronica rushed to reassure me. ‘May I come in?’

Even more puzzled, I stepped aside. ‘First door on the left,’ I indicated the sitting room.

She entered the room, stopping momentarily when she saw Emma playing with her toy animals. And there was a distinctly pongy whiff wafting up from her. Her nappy needed changing.

‘How is she?’ Veronica asked. ‘Emma, isn’t it?’

‘Yes, that’s right. And she’s fine,’ I replied.

Should I change Emma’s nappy now or wait until Veronica left? I decided to wait until Veronica left. I didn’t want to appear rude by vanishing with Emma the moment she sat down. Collette’s sister sat down on the sofa. Slowly I sat down in the armchair opposite. Emma played on the carpet between us. I waited for Veronica to get to the point.

‘So how are you?’ she asked.

My frown deepened. ‘Fine, thanks. I’m not being funny but I’m sure you didn’t come all this way just to ask about my health.’

‘Well, I did actually – indirectly.’

I had a bad feeling about this . . .

‘I don’t know if Collette told you, but I’m a social worker.’

Every cell in my body was on red alert. ‘Yeah, she told me,’ I replied carefully, wondering where all this was leading.

‘Collette also told me that your ex-girlfriend turned up with a child and . . .’ A swift glance at Emma. ‘Now you find yourself having to cope with that child alone?’

‘I’m not alone. My dad and brother are here to help,’ I said. What was all this about? ‘Why’re you here?’

‘Don’t worry, this is an unofficial visit. I’ve just come to see how you’re managing,’ said Veronica. ‘Collette said that you were deeply unhappy.’

‘I got over it.’
I’m getting over it
would’ve been more accurate but she didn’t need to know that.

‘But it can’t be easy?’ Veronica suggested.

I shrugged, saying nothing.

‘As I said, I’m here in an unofficial capacity, but I do have a duty of care to make sure that Emma is in a stable, nurturing, safe environment.’

My blood ran ice-cold in my veins. ‘What’re you implying?’ I asked slowly. ‘What did Collette say?’

‘Collette didn’t say anything specific. But having a child can be a daunting prospect for any new parent – even when the child is wanted. You’re only seventeen and Emma wasn’t . . .’ Another swift look at my daughter. ‘Well, she wasn’t a life choice you deliberately made, now was she?’

I said nothing. I was only too aware of the land mines suddenly scattered all around me, just waiting for a word out of place to set them off.

‘I understand that you’re trying to find a way out of your current situation?’ Veronica continued.

‘You’ve been misinformed,’ I replied. ‘Emma is my daughter and my responsibility. I’m not trying to find a way out of anything.’

Veronica looked puzzled. ‘But you’re going to university.’

‘I withdrew my application.’

‘So what d’you intend to do now?’

‘Find a job so I can support my daughter.’

‘And who will be looking after your daughter whilst you work?’

How was any of this her business? I bit back what I really wanted to say with great difficulty. I was only too
aware that this woman had the power to make it her business, but with each passing second I resented her presence more and more.

‘I’m looking for an evening or night-time job so that my dad can look after Emma whilst I’m working.’

‘What kind of evening job?’

‘I don’t know. I’m still looking.’

‘And what happens when your dad isn’t available to baby-sit?’

‘I’d only work on a part-time basis initially, maybe three or four evenings a week. Dad and I plan to organise a schedule of nights when I can look after Emma myself.’

‘Hhmm . . .’ Veronica didn’t sound convinced. ‘And what happens when Emma is sick or needs you at home and you’re at work?’

‘The same thing that happens to any parent in a similar situation,’ I replied. ‘I come home to look after my daughter.’

‘Hhmm . . . I’m not being funny, Dante, but are you even close to coping?’

‘What d’you mean?’

‘I can smell that Emma’s nappy needs changing but I don’t see you making any moves to do anything about it,’ said Veronica.

Calm down, Dante. Don’t let her get to you
.

‘I know her nappy needs changing but I didn’t realize you’d be staying so long, otherwise I would’ve changed her before now.’

‘Don’t let me stop you,’ Veronica said.

Was this a test?

After a moment’s hesitation, I took Emma’s baby bag off the handles of her folded-up buggy which was leaning against the wall and I set about changing Emma’s nappy without saying a word to Veronica. The burning resentment I felt must have been scorching her skin though. As I fastened Emma’s clean nappy, she said, ‘Dante, I’m on your side.’

It didn’t feel like it.

‘So you’ve decided to keep Emma with you?’

‘She’s my daughter,’ I replied. That said it all.

‘Have you really thought this through?’

Was she serious?

‘I’ve thought of nothing else. I’ve only had Emma for a few weeks now. I’m still learning, I’m still adjusting. But I know I could be a good dad if I’m given the chance.’

‘You’re seventeen, Dante. You can’t be expected to have the patience or aptitude for this that an older parent would have.’

I wasn’t having that. ‘There are plenty of older parents who abuse their kids. There are plenty of older parents who don’t give a damn about their children and let them fend for themselves. I know I’m only seventeen. I can’t help that. But I’m eighteen in two weeks’ time and all my family, not just me, are determined to make this work.’

‘I’m glad to hear it,’ said Veronica, ‘because if I feel this is not the best environment for Emma, there are a number of steps I can take.’

I stood up. ‘Are you talking about taking my daughter into care?’

‘That would be a last resort. There are quite a number of intermediate steps before we ever get to that point . . .’

But I hardly heard her. I bent to pick up Emma, hugging her to me. She rested her head on my shoulder and started sucking her thumb. I wanted to tell Emma not to do that as it would make her teeth grow outwards, but if I removed her thumb from her mouth, would Veronica think I was being cruel? Would that be a mark against me?

‘Tell me something,’ I asked bitterly. ‘Would we be having this conversation if I was Emma’s mum instead of her dad?’

Veronica frowned. ‘I don’t see how that’s relevant.’

‘Isn’t it? You’re automatically assuming that because I’m Emma’s dad, not her mum, I’m failing. Well, let’s talk about her mum. Melanie was the one who didn’t even tell me she was pregnant. Nor did she bother to let me know I had a daughter when Emma was born. Melanie arrived here, told me she didn’t trust herself with Emma and was afraid of what she might do, she gave Emma to me and did a runner. She’s the one who has disappeared somewhere up north with no forwarding address. And yet you’re here ready to condemn me?’

I didn’t shout, though God knows all I wanted to do was yell at the bitch and chuck her out the nearest window. How dare she? And Collette had a damned nerve.

‘I can see I’m upsetting you.’ Veronica stood up.

‘Of course I’m upset. You’re threatening to take my daughter away from me for no other reason than my age and my gender.’

Veronica scrutinized me. ‘Dante, believe it or not, I am
on your side. This really isn’t an official visit. And I can see that you’ve already bonded with your daughter. And I’m here to do whatever I can to help. But this requires a commitment from you for at least another eighteen years. Think about it.’

‘I have. And like I said, I’m already looking for a job.’

‘I’m not just talking about your employment,’ said Veronica.

‘What then?’

‘There are a number of other factors to consider.’

‘Like what?’

‘Like, where does Emma sleep?’

‘In a cot at the foot of my bed,’ I informed her.

‘And in five years time, where will she be sleeping?’

Huh? ‘I have no idea.’

‘My point is, she’ll soon be needing her own room,’ said Veronica. ‘I understand from Collette that this is a three-bedroom house. You, your dad and your brother each have your own bedroom. So where does that leave Emma?’

‘I can share my brother’s room and Emma can have mine when she’s old enough,’ I said. ‘My aim is to have my own flat at some point for me and Emma.’

I was aiming at a lot of things – my own flat, a good job, prospects and a good life for me and my daughter, but it’d be pointless to tell her all those things.

‘It’s not just that,’ said Veronica. ‘Have you taken her to your GP for a check-up? Have you even registered her at your doctor’s surgery? There are a number of things that need to be sorted out if you plan on having your daughter stay with you for any length of time . . .’

‘Well, I wasn’t going to make an appointment for Emma to see a doctor until she was actually sick with something, but OK, I’ll sort out a check-up at the doctor’s first thing in the morning. I’ll do whatever is necessary. But Emma’s staying with me. I’m not letting you or anyone else take my daughter away from me,’ I told her straight.

Emma must’ve picked up on the tension in me because she started mewing. Another few seconds and she’d be crying.

‘It’s to your credit that you feel that way.’ Veronica smiled. ‘Look, I’m going to leave my number. If you need advice or help, just give me a call.’ She dug into her handbag and produced a business card. I watched as she scribbled her mobile number on the back. She held out the card to me. I hesitated, but I took it. ‘I have another appointment now, but let me stress, we do everything in our power to keep families together. I really am on your side.’

Yeah, right.

‘Your daughter is beautiful.’ Veronica smiled at me. ‘And doesn’t she look like you.’

I said nothing.

‘Bye, Emma.’ Veronica put out a hand to stroke Emma’s cheek, but I moved us both away from her and led the way to the front door. Opening it, I stood aside so Veronica would have no trouble leaving. She held out her hand. I was holding Emma, so couldn’t reciprocate.

‘Take care of yourself, and your daughter,’ said Veronica, her hand falling to her side.

‘I intend to.’

‘I or one of my colleagues may be back within the next
few weeks for a chat with you and your dad, just to see how you’re all doing.’

She headed off, her last comment ringing in my ears.

Was that a threat or a promise?

Either way, I was in trouble.

‘Stop panicking.’

‘That’s easy for you to say, Dad.’ I was practically shouting down the phone at him.

‘Dante, it wasn’t even an official visit,’ said Dad.

‘But Veronica still came here. She still questioned me. What if she tries to take Emma away from me?’

‘You’re getting way ahead of yourself,’ said Dad. ‘You said the social worker called that a last resort. The authorities wouldn’t take Emma away from you unless she was in danger, which she obviously isn’t. So calm down.’

All kinds of phrases I’d only heard on TV sprinted through my head wearing spiked shoes. Phrases like ‘on the at-risk register’ and ‘family court’ and ‘foster care’. The Dante who only a few weeks ago had sat at the computer looking up the procedures for putting a child into foster care wasn’t me. I looked back and I didn’t even recognize that person. What was that saying? Be careful what you wish for ’cause you might get it? I took a deep breath, trying to follow Dad’s advice.

‘Dad, I’m . . . worried,’ I admitted.

‘Look, d’you want me to come home?’

‘Why? Veronica has already left.’

‘I know. But I’ll come home if you need me.’

‘You would do that?’ I asked.

‘Of course I would,’ said Dad impatiently. ‘You’re my son, Dante. If you need me, I’m home in a heartbeat. Well, maybe two heartbeats depending on how the trains are running.’

‘No, that’s OK, Dad,’ I said, feeling a little less ruffled. ‘But thanks for the offer.’

‘Well if you change your mind, just phone me. OK?’

‘Yes, Dad.’

‘And I’m not working late tonight so I’ll be home around six thirty.’

‘OK. Thanks.’

‘Dante, don’t let this Veronica woman rattle you. Emma is with her family now and that’s how it’ll stay. See you later, son.’ Dad put down the phone.

It felt good . . . no, it felt great to know that Dad had my back. For the first time I thought about what all this must be like for him. It couldn’t have been easy bringing up me and my brother after Mum died, coping on his own with the two of us, plus a mortgage and bills. And now instead of two, there were three that Dad had to provide for. I needed to find a job in a hurry. I had to make this work, now more than ever.

But first things first. I had a phone call to make.

‘Hello?’

‘Collette?’

‘Speaking.’

I took a deep breath, trying to quell the anger that flared at the sound of her voice.

‘Hello?’ she prompted.

‘I’ve just had a visit from your sister,’ I said quietly.

‘Dante? Hi. How’re you?’

‘I’ve just had a visit from Veronica,’ I repeated.

‘Oh, good. She promised she’d go and see you.’

Another deep breath. It wasn’t working. ‘You told your sister about Emma and me?’

‘Well, yes,’ said Collette, surprised I even had to ask. ‘I told her how you weren’t coping.’

‘Why would you do something like that?’ The words were coming out faster and harder.