19
T
he next few days I spent trying to get an appointment with the Divas, making love to Jo and looking after Cat’s kittens. Not necessarily in that order.
I also spent an afternoon with my daughter. Under the terms of the divorce settlement I was allowed reasonable access. In fact my ex-wife Laura tried to keep me as distanced from Judith as was possible. I have to admit I hadn’t been the greatest father when Laura and I were married. Since the divorce and Laura’s subsequent re-marriage to a dentist from Forest Gate named Louis Rudnick, I guess I’d become even worse.
It wasn’t that I didn’t love Judith or want to see her because I actually worshipped the ground her size threes walked upon. It was just that I hated to say goodbye to her after one of our infrequent visits so much that it hurt less not to see her than to see her and then see her go.
If you think that’s bullshit, just lose a daughter of your own and tell me about it.
Anyway, one afternoon after another morning of fruitless calls to Mogul Incorporated trying to get an appointment, I grabbed the nettle and gave old Laura a bell.
She recognised my voice straight away, as one does tend to do when you’ve been married for ten years and parted for a few more, and the temperature dipped to the low twenties and I remembered why we weren’t married anymore.
‘Hello Nick,’ she said lifelessly.
‘Hi.’ I greeted her like a chat show host. ‘How are you today?’
‘Surviving.’
Nothing changes, I thought, and dropped my bright persona. In a more normal voice I went on, ‘I wondered if I could take Judith off your hands one afternoon this week – it’s half-term isn’t it?’
‘Yes.’
‘Yes it’s half-term, or yes I can take her out?’
‘Yes, it is half-term and yes you can take her out if you must, except don’t get her all upset.’
‘Why should I do that?’ I asked. ‘I want to spend a few hours with her, not pull her pigtails.’
‘You’re so funny,’ said Laura.
She used to think so.
‘Is she there?’ I asked after a moment.
‘No, she’s out with Louis.’
‘How is your favourite orthodontist?’
‘I don’t know why you bother to ask when you really don’t give a damn.’
‘Just being polite.’
‘Save it, Nick. I would.’
‘Yes, perhaps you would,’ I said. ‘What day would be convenient?’
‘Any day, you choose. We’re not doing anything special.’
‘How about tomorrow?’
‘That’s fine.’
‘I’ll pick her up at twelve,’ I said.
‘Don’t bother to come into the house. She’ll be waiting, so don’t you dare be late. And for Christ’s sake Nick, be sober.’
‘What do you take me for?’ I asked.
‘If I had all day I’d tell you. Just don’t upset her by being late.’
‘I won’t, I promise, and tell her that my cat has had kittens.’
‘Jesus, Nick, you are getting domesticated! I don’t believe it. Haven’t you drowned them in a bucket yet?’
I said, ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’
‘Briefly,’ she replied. ‘Just long enough to bring Judith back to the door.’ And with that she hung up.
The next day dawned grey and overcast but I felt fine and spun over to Forest Gate mid-morning with a new Lester Bowie tape oozing out of the stereo speakers.
I pulled up outside the dentist’s fully-detached at eleven fifty-nine precisely and touched the horn. I saw a downstairs curtain flip back and a little blonde head appeared, then disappeared as quickly as it takes to tell. Then the front door burst open and my daughter Judith hit the garden path like a tiny hurricane in a Fair Isle sweater and denim dungarees. Laura appeared at the door behind her and called her back to wrap her up in a red cloth coat. Judith jumped up and down impatiently and I climbed out of the car and perched on the side of the wing whilst I waited.
Judith bore being dressed and as soon as her coat was fastened she kissed her mother and tore towards me. Laura watched from the open doorway. I waved but she didn’t respond, just went back inside and closed the door behind her. Judith flew through the front gate and came into my arms like a ton of wriggling bricks. I swung her up for a kiss and noticed that either she was getting heavier or I was getting older, then realised with a jolt that it was both.
I kissed her on both cheeks and buried my face in her long silky yellow hair that smelled of Sunsilk and little girl.
‘Hello, Daddy,’ she said, ‘I love you.’
‘I love you too, sweetheart,’ I replied.
‘I haven’t seen you for ages.’
‘I know, love,’ I said, feeling a sword enter my heart and twist. ‘I’ve been very busy.’
She struggled free from my embrace and ran round the car.
‘I love your car, Daddy,’ she said. ‘Can we go fast?’
‘Not too fast,’ I replied.
‘Louis bought a BMW, but I said yours is faster. It is, isn’t it?’
‘A BMW eh?’ I said. ‘How do you know about BMWs?’
‘Everyone knows about BMWs,’ she said scornfully. I kept forgetting she was getting older. ‘Sorry,’ I said. ‘I forgot.’
She pulled open the passenger door and clambered onto the leather seat of the Jaguar. I climbed into the driver’s seat and only gave one longing glance back at the anonymous front of the house where my wife and daughter lived as we drove away.
I drove back to Tulse Hill via McDonald’s, where I watched Judith swallow a Big Mac, an apple pie and two milkshakes so thick they were almost solid. She was dancing on her little plastic seat in excitement at seeing the kittens and pigging french fries like they were going out of fashion. I drank a black coffee and watched her eating fast food so fast it hardly touched the sides.
She offered me a bite of microwaved pie and giggled as I juggled the hot food into my mouth.
She’d finished her lunch before my coffee was properly cool and she dragged me off to the parking meter at full speed to rescue the car and ruin my digestion. She tried to convince me to do a ton along the Embankment but I resisted the temptation to show off and proceeded at a more leisurely pace beside the river.
Poor old Lester got the elbow and she turned the radio to Radio One and bopped her botty to the sound of the latest top 40 breakers. She nearly wet her pants over the new Madonna single and sang along like a little wannabee, which is just what I called her. She was delighted and kept singing wannabee, wannabee as we swung down through Vauxhall and Stockwell. I stopped off at Red Records in Brixton and bought her a copy of the Madonna album and an Ah Ha tape for the Walkman that Louis had bought her for her last birthday. Inside the shop she got into the groove with some heavy reggae and touched a Rasta’s dreadlocks which kind of made her day.
Yeah, I know. I don’t see her for ages then I buy her presents. It’s all wrong but what could I do?
We arrived at the office as the day got greyer and Judith forgot all about the music and got ecstatic about the kittens. Their eyes had just opened and they were starting to explore their little world and she watched them feed and Cat allowed her to pet them but got a bit agitated when she tried to pick one up.
‘Leave them Judith,’ I said, ‘I think mum’s getting the hump.’
‘Will Mummy get the hump?’
I didn’t understand what she meant and I showed it.
‘When?’ I asked mystified.
‘When she has her new baby.’
‘What new baby?’ I asked.
‘My baby brother. At least I hope it’s a brother, then I can take him for walks.’
‘Slow down, sugar,’ I said. ‘Slide that one past me again.’
Then it was her turn to look mystified so I picked her up and sat her on the edge of the desk and said, ‘What baby?’
‘Mummy’s pregnant,’ she declared proudly, and I guessed that was definitely the end for Laura and me. I tried to hide my feelings but Judith sussed me out.
‘Hasn’t Mummy told you?’ she asked.
‘Mummy and I don’t talk very often,’ I explained.
‘I know,’ she said sadly. ‘Have I upset you, Daddy?’
‘No darling, not you,’ I said.
‘Has Mummy upset you?’
‘No,’ I lied.
‘Daddy?’
‘Yes.’
‘Why don’t you get a girl-friend?’
Now there was a turn up. I’d been debating telling Judith about Jo, but I’d half-decided not to. I felt kind of weird about the whole thing. I wanted to tell Judith and I wanted them to meet, but I was afraid that Judith might not like Jo or even the idea of her daddy having a girlfriend at all. I didn’t really know what I thought to be honest. As far as Judith knew there’d been no one in my life since Laura and I separated. Christ, that was the problem. I didn’t know what she thought. Who knows what a nine-year-old thinks anyway? Probably only another nine-year-old.
‘What brought all this on?’ I asked at last.
‘I think you should have someone. It would be nice if she was nice.’
‘Do you think she wouldn’t be then?’ I asked.
‘I don’t think so, and if she was nice it would be like having another mummy, and maybe then if Mummy had a little girl, maybe your girl-friend would get me a baby brother.’
‘I see,’ I said. ‘What you really want is an alternative baby machine.’
I think that one stumped her for a minute.
‘What I really want,’ she said, ‘is for you to be happy again.’
I could have cried. ‘Thank you darling,’ I said.
‘And Louis says that you only go out with tarts.’ I felt myself break into a sweat of anger. ‘He said that to you?’ I demanded.
She looked away,
‘Judith,’ I said.
‘What?’
‘Did Louis say that to you?’
‘No, I was listening outside the door!’
I felt the anger drain away and I nearly laughed. ‘You shouldn’t eavesdrop,’ I said. ‘By the way, do you know what a tart is?’
‘Of course I do.’
‘I suppose everyone knows what tarts are?’
‘They do at school.’
What can you do with them?
‘Delightful.’ I said.
‘I think he’s full of shit anyway.’
I could hardly believe my ears. ‘Judith,’ I said. ‘What did you say?’
‘I said he’s full of shit,’ she said defiantly, and I loved her for being so loyal.
‘Well I wish you wouldn’t,’ I said. But I had to agree with her.
‘It’s on TV all the time,’ she said, still defiantly.
‘I don’t care.’ I said. ‘I don’t want you swearing.’
‘You do, I’ve heard you,’ she said with clear logic.
‘I’m not nine years old.’
‘Daddy, you couldn’t be,’ she said and put one hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle. ‘You’re a daddy.’
‘Don’t start all that stuff Judith,’ I said. ‘I don’t want to listen to any of your mind-benders. Or any more swearing for that matter.
She pulled a face, then got off the desk and put her arms around my waist. ‘I am sorry if I’ve upset you,’ she said.
‘Forget it sweetheart,’ I replied. ‘As a matter of fact I have got something to tell you.’
That’s when I told her about Jo. She seemed to be delighted and I promised that the next time that we had an afternoon together I’d bring Jo along too.
‘Is she pretty?’ asked Judith.
‘I think so,’ I replied. ‘And by the way don’t mention tarts to her.’
Judith giggled and I knew what she was going to say next.
‘Judith,’ I warned, ‘don’t use other words either.’
‘Like what Daddy?’ she asked innocently.
‘You know.’
‘I know lots of words.’
‘I just bet you do,’ I said and kissed her until she squealed.
We sat around the office for a while longer and Judith talked to Cat and I sat and thought about Laura being pregnant by another man. When Judith said she was thirsty I went to the shop next door and got her a bottle of cherryade out of the cooler. She insisted I had a sip and the stuff was so full of chemicals it tasted like drinking old rubber tyres.
‘I don’t know how you can drink that muck,’ I said.
‘I don’t know how you can drink horrible grown-up beer,’ she replied darkly, so I shut up.
When she got restless I drove us over to Clapham and we went for a walk across the Common. She played on the swings and roundabouts and had a long chat to a man fishing in the duck pond. We had tea at an old-fashioned café by the clock tower and we gorged on cream cakes and Judith had two cups of hot chocolate and belched most of the way back to Forest Gate until she fell asleep in the car listening to the radio again. I carried her up to the front door and leaned on the bell with my shoulder. Laura answered the door with an apron across her belly that I would never have noticed was swelling unless I’d been told.
‘Take her into the lounge,’ she said. Lounge. I hate that word, a real fucking dentist’s word if ever I’ve heard one. When she lived with me it was the sitting-room. I carried Judith through and laid her gently on the sofa. She mumbled in her sleep and stuck her thumb in her mouth. Laura gently disengaged it.
‘Did you have a nice afternoon?’ she asked.
‘Fine, thanks,’ I replied.
‘She’s growing up,’ said Laura proudly.
‘She sure is. She’s got a way with words, I’ll give her that.’
‘What do you mean?’ asked Laura suspiciously.
‘Nothing.’
‘No, tell me.’
‘Forget it,’ I said.
‘Come on Nick, what did she say?’
‘Amongst other things that you’re pregnant.’
She blushed to the tips of her hair. ‘Well, I am married.’
‘Gee whiz,’ I said.
‘Don’t be sarcastic, I never thought it suited you.’
‘So old Louis is going to be a daddy,’ I went on.
‘Nick,’ she warned.
‘Just what the world needs, another little dentist.’
‘And this is just what I don’t need, you throwing a bloody tantrum!’ she said angrily.
‘I wish it had been you that told me, that’s all,’ I said.
‘And have to listen to you rant and rave about it? Christ Nick, I know you too well to tell you anything about my marriage.’
‘Is that what you call it?’ I asked. ‘And by the way, you might tell good old Louis that little girls have big ears and that it’s none of his business, or yours for that matter, what kind of women I go around with.’
‘What do you mean?’ she asked.
‘I mean that when Louis was describing my lady friends as tarts, Judith was listening at the keyhole.’