“Court case -?
Miriam stopped mid-speech as her door creaked opened. Her mother was standing at its entrance.
“Darling, I’m sorry but we’ve got to go,” said Claire. “I promise we can call them as soon as we get back.”
-----------------
In the car on the way to town Miriam gazed out the window. People were carrying on with their everyday business. A young couple sauntered along holding hands and laughing. A mother pushed a pram inside which a strapped toddler was wriggling and fussing and throwing a mega tantrum. Two businessmen carrying leather briefcases passed by engaged in a heated discussion. But inside the car, everything felt far from normal. There was tension in the air. Her mother’s back was ramrod straight and the smile she wore on her face was fake. Miriam could spot the difference between her mother’s genuine smiles versus the forced ones and what had been lovely about America is that there her mother had smiled real, proper smiles
all
the time. But since they’d got home her mother was smiling more of her forced, tight smiles again, especially in the last couple of days. Miriam asked on several occasions whether everything was alright and in response her mother managed to pull a more honest expression, reassuring her that she was just tired from the jet lag and perhaps from there being two babies growing inside her tummy. Miriam turned now to look at her mum. She was rigid as a robot, as if her limbs and skin had formed a metallic shatter-proof barrier behind which every conceivable emotion was being kept guarded.
“Where are we going?” asked Miriam.
“Oh, to some irritating meeting which I shouldn’t be taking you to.”
Miriam’s mother kept her eyes on the road in front. She was barely blinking.
“Then why are you?”
Her mum pursed her lips into a thin line.
“Your father arranged it and it has to be today. Because he’s sick I have to take you.”
Her tone was sharp. Miriam thought she almost sounded angry. Her mother rarely got angry. And her mother rarely spoke ill of her father either.
“Who am I meeting?”
Her mother opened her mouth as if to speak but then closed it without formulating a single word. A tear slithered down her left cheek. Miriam hated seeing her mother sad.
“Is this anything to do with the court case?” Miriam asked quietly.
Her mother blinked, once, twice and then her eyelashes suddenly started fluttering uncontrollably.
“Court case? I never told you there was any court case.”
“No, but Martha did.”
The two of them were silent as they sat at red traffic lights, lost in their own thoughts. The light turning to green broke their reverie and after they’d driven through, her mother clicked the left indicator and pulled into the curb to park. She turned off the engine and removed her seat belt.
“Darling, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the court case. I didn’t want to get you involved. I was trying to protect you.”
“I don’t need protecting,” Miriam insisted. “I want to protect
you
.”
A few more tears spilled out of Claire’s eyes. Miriam dug in the pockets of her sweatpants hopeful that there might be a clean tissue inside but the only object she pulled out was an empty sweet wrapper. Claire leaned over and kissed Miriam on her head.
“You are such a special girl. Do you know that?”
Miriam nodded, but her mother’s platitudes weren’t going to make her drop the subject. She instinctively felt that there was something about what was happening this afternoon which was very important for them all.
“What is the court case about?” she asked.
“It’s about whether we can all go to live in America.”
“And why can’t we just go?”
Claire faltered a minute and then decided to answer, looking her daughter directly in the eye.
“Because your father doesn’t want you to go.”
“So he’s trying to stop you taking me?”
Claire nodded.
“And who will decide?”
“A Judge and -
“And who?”
“And the person you’re meeting today.”
“And if they decide we can’t go, what then?”
Claire’s hand moved protectively to cover her belly.
“I guess then we’d just have to divide our time somehow between the two countries. Jonah would live here when he’s able and we would go there when we were able. It wouldn’t be perfect but we’d work around it. But I really don’t want you to worry yourself about this.”
“Would you and Jonah still get married?”
Claire’s eyes opened wide, as if to say ‘how did you know’?
“Did Martha tell you that too?” Claire asked.
Miriam nodded, relieved that her mother didn’t look angry. In fact, it was a relief to see that her lips were curled in a genuine smile.
“I can see that there’s no secrets shared between you two,” she reprimanded. “And yes, I’m sure we’d still get married.”
“And we can be bridesmaids?”
“Absolutely you can, if that’s what you’d like.”
Silence fell between them again. Miriam’s mother pulled a tissue out of her purse and blew her nose.
“What do
you
want Mummy?” asked Miriam.
Claire hesitated, before taking a deep, audible breath. She spoke as she slowly exhaled.
“In an ideal world I would like to go to America, for a fresh start and to live in one place full-time as a family rather than going back and forth constantly. But only if that would make you happy too.”
Miriam nodded. Grown-ups often thought that children couldn’t understand complicated situations but they could. She understood it perfectly. Her mother loved Jonah. They were happy. They were getting married and were having babies together but still her father was being mean. She hated how her father was always thinking of himself and not of others. If the Judge told them that they had to stay in London, Miriam could tell that that would make her mother miserable. Is that really what her father wanted? Her mother was the opposite of him in every way. She only wanted the best for everybody. She’d been so nice to her father when he had a baby and got together with Ali. She never put herself first. She was always conscious of not wanting to upset anybody. So if this person that Miriam was meeting today was going to ask her opinion on the matter, she would tell them straight. She wanted to go to America to live. She was starting to intensely dislike her father. He was a selfish man who always wanted to win, whatever the cost. If it was in her power, then she wanted to give the gift of a new life and fresh start to her mother. That was exactly what she wanted. End of.
CLAIRE AND JONAH
The next evening, after Miriam was in bed, the doorbell rang. Claire had been anticipating this moment for the last twelve days and couldn’t contain her excitement. She ran downstairs, taking the steps two at a time, only slowing when she reminded herself that there were two babies in her stomach and she should take care. The door opened to reveal Jonah. She jumped into his arms and pressed her lips into his, not allowing their conjoined mouths to part as she pulled them both into the house and closed the door behind them, leaning his body up against the wall.
“Promise you won’t leave me ever again,” she whispered.
“I promise,” he murmured through a smile, “but strictly speaking it was you who left me.”
She’d been warding off a cocktail of anxieties over the last few days but the moment his arms wrapped around her they all dissipated. He’d been drinking beer on the plane and definitely more than one! The taste of him combined with his musky scent stirred altogether different feelings inside of her. Jonah finally pulled away. A few strands of her hair had become tangled in their kiss and he gently pushed these back from her face, stroking her cheek.
“Do you know how much I’ve missed you?” he asked.
“And do you know how much I’ve missed you?”
Jonah leaned his forehead into hers.
“Do you know what I’d really like right now?”
It was dinner time, so Claire had prepared something easy and light.
“You must be starving after your journey. I’ve made your favourite…..shepherd’s pie.”
Jonah grinned one of his electric smiles, creasing the dimple to the side of his mouth.
“Delicious though I know your shepherd’s pie is, what I’d really like right now, more than anything, is a shower, to freshen up.”
He was wearing a lovely dark chocolate suede jacket Claire had never seen before. Once he’d taken it off and hung it on the coat stand by the front door, Claire took one of his hands in hers and led him up two flights of stairs to her bedroom in the loft. Whilst he began to undress, she turned on the water in the bathroom to test its temperature. By the time she padded back into the bedroom he was already down to his Calvin Klein’s.
“I’ll go get you a towel,” she said shyly.
It was ridiculous how this man still had the power to render her coy. Her cheeks slightly rouged as she opened a drawer and pulled out the largest, fluffiest towel she possessed, thick, soft and baby blue. When she turned around to proffer the contents in her clasp he was standing completely naked in front of her. She loved him so much that sometimes, just looking at him made her body ache with longing.
“Right,” she said, “I’ll leave you to it.”
Jonah took a step towards her, placing a hand on her backside and pulling her close.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
His breath was hot on her neck.
“To get dinner ready?” she whispered.
“The hell you are,” he whispered back. “You’re getting in the shower with me.”
“Is this another jet lag cure?”
“This is a cure for everything.”
His fingers tickled her neck as he found the zipper on the back of the long-sleeved black dress she was wearing and tugged it down. This was one of the few dresses that still fitted her. The material was soft and stretchy enough to expand with her figure.
“Mm,” he said appreciatively, once she was down to nothing but her panties and bra. He placed one hand over her breasts and another on her stomach. “You’ve been doing some excellent nurturing since I last saw you,” he murmured.
“You mean I’ve become fat.”
Jonah unclipped her bra and kneeled down, kissing her stomach tenderly as he slowly pulled down her panties.
“I prefer to call it pregnant,” he murmured. “Duchess, you’re looking fabulously fecund.”
As he stood he scooped her up with him, cradling her effortlessly into his arms as if she were light as a feather as opposed to the swollen human incubator that Claire was beginning to feel like. He walked them towards the shower, gently depositing her under the deliciously warm spray. The water soothed Claire whilst Jonah’s touch melted her from the outside in, washing away the fears she’d bottled up. Benedict Pendleton and Anthony were doing a sterling job in unsettling her, forcing her to wonder if perhaps now wasn’t hers and Jonah’s time. If getting what she wanted was so hard to achieve then perhaps it wasn’t the right thing to do. But now, as Jonah lathered the soap and started washing and kissing her and sliding his hands deliciously all over her, it was a timely reminder that this is what was right. Good things are worth fighting for.
-------------------
Jonah had mixed reservations about this trip. Obviously he was desperate to see Claire but, more than anything, he wanted to be able to provide her with a perfect happy ending. Unfortunately, it would appear that however much money he was willing to throw at the situation, it still couldn’t guarantee that their day in court would be successful. It could only give them the best possible chance. He didn’t want to worry Claire but, as he tucked into her shepherd’s pie, he knew he had to be one hundred per cent honest. She deserved nothing less. He’d had a meeting with his own attorney and there were several avenues now being explored, just in case.
“I’ve got good news,” said Jonah.
Claire was dressing her salad and looked up.
“I love good news.”
Jonah grinned.
“I’m going to be a television superstar just like you,” he joked. He knew that’s how Miriam referred to her mom. “I’ve been hired to anchor NBC San Diego’s breakfast program.”
Claire raised an eyebrow.
“I thought you were enjoying the commentating?”
“I was,” admitted Jonah, “but my attorney said it would be in our best interests if I got a job that tied me to one place. It should help with your court case.”
Jonah referred to it as
her
court case, but actually it felt every inch like they were in this together. Claire laid a hand on his, tears filling her eyes.
“You’d do that for me?”
Jonah laid down his cutlery and lifted her hand to his lips.
“I’d do anything for you, you know that. Including moving here if that’s what it takes.”
He wanted Claire to feel safe in the knowledge that if they lost the court case, that would not be the end of the story. Staying in London wasn’t first choice for either of them, but it might have to be considered. He’d looked into whether it would be remotely possible for him to bring Martha to live in London full-time if all else failed but his attorney had said it was highly unlikely.
Tears spilled out of Claire’s eyes, so many of them simultaneously that it gave the impression of a sheet of water falling over a precipice.
“Sorry,” she apologised. “I don’t know what the matter with me is at the moment. I feel so emotional the whole time.”
“Duchess,” Jonah wiped away her tears with a piece of kitchen paper. “You’ve got a lot going on, not to mention the hormones.”
“Are the hormones why I’ve been feeling so angry of late?”
“You, angry? I don’t believe it.”
Jonah wouldn’t say that Claire was
never
angry, only that it was extremely rare. In all the time they’d been together she’d raised her voice just a couple of times. Even when they’d done that regretful thing all those years ago - which they preferred not to think about - she’d held it all in. That was her way. She used to tell him that she didn’t need to be angry. He was fired up enough for them both.
“Yes,” she half spat, half-smiled, “would you believe that I have been angry of late. Very angry, angry enough that I’d like to punch him in the face with this.”
She balled her right hand into a fist, wearing a mean look in her eye as she punched the air.
“Who exactly do you want to punch?” asked Jonah.
“Anthony,” she punched the air again. “I hate him, I hate him. I
hate
him.”
She punched the air three more times just to prove the point and then took a gulp from Jonah’s glass of Merlot.
“Firecracker, I love your new attitude,” quipped Jonah. “It’s turning me on.”
It really was. There was something very sexy about Claire’s rage. It was cute and hot and only very slightly scary all rolled into one. Plus he hated Anthony anyway, so the thought that she’d like to do him harm was appealing.
“Anything else specific he’s done?”
Claire put down her fork and started telling Jonah exactly what that horrible ex-husband of hers had done. How he hadn’t needed to involve Miriam in any of this but he’d elected to do so anyway. How most kind, caring parents would put their child first and not place them in the unenviable position of having to choose. But no, odious Anthony had gone one step further by arranging for Miriam to be ‘assessed’ by one of the court’s approved child psychologists to see what she wanted out of all of this.
Claire’s face flushed red and her speech gathered pace as she reached the denouement.
“And worse than that, because he was ill last weekend, he had the audacity to ask
me
to take her to the psychologist’s appointment instead. I wanted to say no, but I checked with Benedict Pendleton and he said it would be better for our case if I were seen as ‘compliant’. So I ended up having to take her. What kind of warped world am I living in?”
Her cheeks matched the shade of her hair.
“Get it out baby,” smiled Jonah, feeling a weird mix of both amusement and fury. Jonah also liked to win but he would never have used his child as a pawn in this particular game. Then again, being a father himself, it was hard for Jonah not to empathise. Anthony was doing everything he could to keep his daughter close. There are two sides to every story.
Jonah was paying the price for having been absent for the last twelve days. In the time that Claire had been alone, a battery of thoughts had been stewing in her mind and she was now trying to purge them from her system.
“So, what did Miriam say to the psychologist?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I tried to get her to open up about it afterwards but it was clear she didn’t want to discuss it, so I let the subject go.”
Claire sat back in her seat and downed in one a tall glass of water. It looked, to all intents and purposes, as if she’d finally got everything out of her system, but then another thought suddenly hit her.
“And also, before I forget,” she wagged a finger, “on a completely different subject you and I need to get our stories straight in future. Your daughter told my daughter that we were getting married
and
about the court case. I hadn’t mentioned either of those things to Miriam.”
Jonah cocked his head with a half-grin.
“Fiery Duchess, I’m sorry, but I hadn’t realised that either of those topics were taboo.”
A silence fell between them and Jonah returned to his shepherd’s pie.
“Are you done yet?” he asked.
“Yes, I’m full,” said Claire.
“No, I meant have you finished with your diatribe. Anything else you want to get off your chest?”
“Nope,” smiled Claire, holding up her hands conciliatorily. “I’m done.”
“Just to check, though, can the girls be bridesmaids?”