The Heart Whisperer (14 page)

Ray was hoping that was it. But two days later Ash called again. She said she needed a babysitter on Saturday afternoon so if Ray was free to look after Willow for four hours, he could if that wasn't too much of an imposition on his precious time.

‘Shouldn't I be police cleared or something?' Ray asked, suddenly nervous at the idea of meeting a six-year-old.

‘You already have been,' she said crisply. ‘My brother's a Garda.'

There were five men in the small waiting room, their heads bent over magazines they weren't reading. Irish men were so self-conscious, Nick thought, walking straight up to the desk. He should come up with a programme to help them.
No More Mister Shy Guy
.

A woman with spiked black hair and a slash of crimson lipstick was on the phone. ‘Excuse me,' Nick began. She held her hand out and he had to wait until she'd finished her call. ‘I have a three o'clock appointment.'

‘Name?'

‘Dillon. Nick.'

Her face lit up. ‘Doc Nick. My friends are going to be so jealous when I tell them I met you. We watch you every Thursday.' All the men in the room were watching Nick too and now he was the one who was self-conscious.

He took the small sealed paper bag and the leaflet and found an empty chair. He still wasn't sure what he was doing here. If Kelly were thirty-five, he'd understand the rush. He caught himself thinking she was being neurotic and made himself do a We-Fit exercise he called Positivi-Three. ‘For every one negative adjective you think about your partner, think of three positive ones.'

One: she was a perfectionist. She wanted everything to be just right. From the mixer tap on a bath to the brand of maple syrup she liked on her French toast. She carried a Moleskine notebook in her purse and made neat little lists of anything she thought might improve their lives.

Two: she was honest. If she had a problem, she didn't hide it. She came right out and said what she needed.

Three: she was incredibly sexy. Nick had a flashback to the date night they'd had last week. They'd gone to a movie then skipped dinner and gone home to bed. She had made it pretty clear what she needed and, the next morning, she made it pretty clear that she wanted it all over again.

‘It's me!' Oonagh said. ‘Where are you?'

Nick's mind went blank. ‘I'm at the …' He looked at the poster of the cartoon sperm on the wall of the waiting room. ‘… bank.'

‘Can you talk?'

‘Not really.' He glanced at the bent heads around him. ‘There's a queue.'

‘The
OO
show has been nominated for a TV Media award. It's our first one and it's all down to you and your fabulous ratings!'

‘That's great news.'

‘Oh, who cares about a crappy old Irish award,' Oonagh said, scornfully. ‘The exciting part is that I've booked a table and invited Curtis Young, the head of Clingfilms. He's flying over to meet you!'

Ray checked himself out in the hall mirror. White Gap T-shirt. Baggy jeans. Biker boots. Grey beanie. His skin looked kind of washed out. That serum stuff he was using wasn't working and there was a short grey hair poking straight up out of his fringe. It suddenly hit him. If his daughter had a child when she was sixteen, he could be a
granddad
at forty-four.

The bell rang and he forced himself to open the door. Ash was standing on the front steps holding a little girl by the hand. She was wearing a Little Miss Lucky T-shirt, a skirt with a pattern of rabbits and carrying a backpack, also shaped like a rabbit.

‘Hi!' he said, in a big fake voice. She looked up at him as if this was the stupidest thing she'd ever heard then retreated behind her mother's legs.

Ash squatted down. ‘This is Ray. Remember? He's your biological daddy. The one that the sperm came from.'

Willow whispered something into Ash's ear and she stood up. ‘She'd like to use your loo.'

Ray had remembered the framed Helmut Newton nudes in the hall at the last minute and bunged them in the downstairs bathroom along with a dusty bong he'd only used once and all his GQ and
Maxim
magazines. So he had no choice but to lead them both up the stairs through his bedroom to the en suite.

Willow went inside and Ash looked around, taking in the black sheets on the bed and the zebra-skin rug. ‘So this,' she smirked, ‘is where the magic happens?'

‘There hasn't been much magic around here for the last few weeks.' Ray crossed his arms.

Ash sighed. ‘Living with my parents is driving me around the bend. My mother has booked me in to see a marriage guidance counsellor this afternoon. She wants me to take Willow back to London and try to work things out with my ex.'

‘Probably not a bad idea.' Not least, Ray thought, because Claire couldn't hound him if Willow lived in another country.

‘Ray is going to call Granny if you decide you want to go home, OK? He has my number.' Ash kissed the top of Willow's head and went down the steps and out of the gate.

‘So,' Ray said, rubbing his hands for some reason. ‘Here we are!' He closed the door and they went into the living room. Willow perched on the edge of the modular sofa and looked at him expectantly.

‘Would you like to watch TV? Or play with the iPad? Or the Wii?' Ray said. She shook her head. ‘Do you want some ice cream?' All children liked ice cream. She shook her head again. ‘Well, is there anything you would like?'

‘Will you do some magic?' Willow's voice was husky and her accent was English, which, for some reason, Ray hadn't expected. ‘Please,' she added.

‘I can't do magic.'

She frowned. ‘Mummy said this is where magic happens.'

‘I can juggle.' He grabbed a couple of oranges out of a bowl and tossed them into the air. One of them hit him, quite painfully, in the eye.

‘Shit!' he said. ‘I mean
sugar
.'

Willow stared at him ‘Why are you wearing a hat indoors?'

‘I didn't know I had it on.' Ray pulled it off. ‘Well, I wonder where Claire is?'

Willow brightened. ‘Is she your girlfriend?'

‘Yes,' Ray lied.

‘Can I try on all her clothes?'

‘You'd have to ask her.'

‘Mummy was your girlfriend before,' Willow told him, ‘when you put me in her tummy.'

‘That's right,' Ray lied again.

‘Willow,' Claire kicked off her shoes and kneeled on the floor, ‘I don't know if anyone told you this but,' she leaned over and whispered, ‘there's a bunny on your back!'

Willow's eyes which were Ray's eyes in her tiny face, widened. ‘I know!' She shrugged her rabbit backpack off and slid down on to the floor beside Claire. ‘There's another rabbit,' she hugged her knees, ‘inside.'

‘Can I see?' Claire tried to catch Ray's eye but he was slouched on the sofa doing something on his iPad.

Willow unzipped the backpack and pulled out a very grubby rabbit toy with one blue eye and one green one. ‘This is Bowie.'

Ray looked up. ‘After David Bowie, the singer?'

Willow looked unsure about this. ‘I don't know him.'

‘You've never heard of Ziggy Stardust? Scary Monsters, Super Creeps?'

‘They're not really scary monsters,' Claire said quickly.

Ray jumped up and went over to his stereo. ‘But you've heard of Lou Reed, right?'

They listened to some early Bowie from Ray's precious vinyl collection and then to some rare Lou Reed. Then they went outside and caught a taxi. Ray sat in the front and chatted to the driver about Smoke Covered Horses and Claire and Willow sat in the back and played ‘I Spy'. Willow had Ray's ears, small and close to her head, and his sallow skin, dusky and golden, even in winter. She even had his eyebrows, in miniature. All of this made Claire feel woozy with amazement but it seemed to be going right over Ray's head.

They got out at Merrion Square and walked across to the Natural History Museum. ‘Me and Claire used to mitch from school and come here all the time,' Ray said to Willow over his shoulder, ‘it's really cool. There's a weird, badly stuffed giraffe called Spoticus and a hairy-nosed wombat.' He pushed open the heavy door and they were hit by the sickly-sweet smell of formaldehyde.

‘Look up!' Ray pointed and Willow's head tilted back to take in the whale skeleton that was hanging from the ceiling. ‘Do you know what that is?'

‘It's bones,' she said quietly.

‘I'm not sure this is a good idea,' Claire hissed.

‘Give it a chance!' Ray hissed back.

They trailed behind him up the stairs and along the wrought-iron walkways while he walked from display cabinet to display cabinet wearing a hole in the words ‘wow' and ‘cool'.

‘Excuse me.' Willow tugged Claire's sleeve and pointed at a grim tableau of three stuffed rabbits being stalked by a snarling, stuffed fox. ‘How did they all die?'

‘Of old age.' Claire hurried her past. ‘In their sleep. After long, happy lives.'

‘This used to be my favourite burger place when I was a kid,' Ray said as they climbed the stairs to Captain America's. ‘It's got all this great authentic retro comic book character stuff.' Claire guessed that comic book to Willow meant Little Kitty and Dora the Explorer, not an eight-foot snarling Superhero. Things got worse when the waitress brought the menu.

‘Ash never said you were a vegetarian!' Ray said.

‘I'm a vegan,' Willow said quietly. ‘Is there any tofu or quorn?'

‘We have
corn
,' the waitress said, doubtfully.

Ray closed the menu. ‘She'll have that. And chips. Why don't you go and look at those cartoon strips?' he asked Willow. ‘Jesus!' he said when she was out of earshot. ‘I should never have let you talk me into this!'

‘Ray, calm down,' Claire said. ‘Stop trying to impress her. This isn't a date. And take off the sunglasses.'

‘I'm leaving the shades on.' He picked up a spoon and rearranged his fringe in its stainless-steel surface. ‘I don't want her to see the fear in my eyes.'

‘So why don't you eat meat?' Ray asked Willow after he'd paid the bill.

‘Because animals have feelings.'

‘That's just cartoon animals,' Ray scoffed. ‘Cows and sheep don't have feelings.'

‘Sheep have friends,' Willow scoffed right back. ‘They can remember sheep they haven't seen for years. It's on the internet.'

Their eyes narrowed. Their mouths were set into the same sulky line. They looked so alike that Claire had to pretend to be busy putting David Bowie back in Willow's backpack to hide her smile.

‘Can I wash my hands?' Willow asked Claire when they were sitting in Ray's living room, waiting for Ash to arrive.

Claire took her into the downstairs loo and dropped a towel over a bong that Ray, for some reason, had left in the middle of the floor.

‘Who are
they
?' Willow pointed at the framed picture of Smoke Covered Horses.

‘That's Ray and his band. He used to be … I mean, he is a singer.'

‘Is that lady a singer too?' Willow pointed at the print of the woman wearing a leather corset that was leaning against the wall.

‘No!' Claire turned it towards the wall quickly. Willow lifted her arms to have her sleeves rolled up. Claire filled the basin with water and soaped her hands carefully then she sandwiched them up in a towel and patted them dry. She remembered her mum doing this for her once in the bathroom of a restaurant. ‘There,' she said, rolling down Willow's sleeves again. And Willow said, ‘Where?' just the way she used to.

‘Well, that,' Ray called from the kitchen over the rattle of ice, ‘was a complete disaster.' He came in with two large vodka gimlets. ‘Is there any
tofu
,' he put on a polite little English voice, ‘
or quorn
?' He slid on to the sofa beside Claire and held out a glass.

‘I don't want a drink,' she said.

‘Fine. Invisible Mike can have it.'

He took a sip out of one glass and then the other. ‘Did you see the way Little Miss Frosty froze me out in the hall?' Willow had kissed Claire goodbye but she wouldn't kiss him.

‘She's a vegan. You took her to see a lot of dead animals and then to a burger restaurant. And you told her I'm your girlfriend. Why?'

‘I don't know. She freaked me out. The whole idea of having a child at all freaks me out.'

‘You'll get used to it.'

‘Nope.' He shook his head.

Claire turned and stared at him. ‘You're not going to see her again?'

‘Ash is probably bringing her back to London anyway.'

‘There are flights to London every day.'

‘We had a deal, Claire, remember?' Ray flicked on the TV and channel-hopped till he found a soccer match.

‘Ray, look at me.' She took the remote and muted the volume. ‘You have a chance to be part of this little girl's life. I'm not going to let you throw that away—'

‘You're not going to
let
me?' His dark eyebrows came down below his fringe. His eyes hardened. ‘What am I? Your
bitch
?'

She put her hand on his arm. ‘She's six, Ray. When I was six, I lost my mother and—'

‘Your mother! Here we go a-fucking-gain.' Ray shook her hand away. ‘You have to drag her into everything, don't you? Every single thing has to come back to your mother. Jesus, Claire, you're pathetic. You're a broken record, do you know know that? This is not about you and your misplaced guilt complex about your mother. This is about me,' he was shouting now, ‘and a kid I didn't even know existed until a couple of weeks ago.'

Claire shrank away from him and put her hands over her face.

‘Jesus!' Ray lowered his voice. ‘Forget I said all that. I can't take this on. I've got to focus on my music career and—'