The One You Really Want (9 page)

‘She doesn't drink that rubbish. I'll get her some water in a minute. Well, it's been nice to see you again—'

‘Mia. That's a pretty name,' said Connor. ‘How old are you, then?'

‘Three,' Laura said hurriedly.

‘I'm
not
.' Mia was indignant. ‘I'm four.'

Four. The answer was one thing, but the expression on Laura's face was what really made Connor take notice. Why would she lie?

Why indeed?

Feeling light-headed with disbelief, Connor said carefully, ‘When's your birthday, Mia?'

Mia paused. Gave it some thought. Finally she said, ‘When I get my presents.'

Connor was shaking. He looked carefully down at the small girl in front of him, with her huge grey eyes, her button nose and determined chin. Switching his gaze to Laura, who had gone pale, he said in a low voice, ‘Is this . . .? Is she . . .?'

Except he already knew that she was.

One of the neighbouring stallholders was persuaded to look after Mia and keep an eye on Laura's stall.

Laura took Connor down a series of narrow side streets, away from the market. As he followed her, a million thoughts raced through his brain, tangling like elastic and shooting off in all directions. A baby, my God, not even a baby, a walking talking four-year-old girl. I'm a father, I've been a father for the last four years . . .

This was mind-blowing, almost too much to take in. Yet even as Connor was digesting the information, he was aware that he wasn't reacting with the sense of horror that overcame some men faced with the prospect of unexpected fatherhood. He had always faintly despised those of his acquaintance who, upon discovering their girlfriends were pregnant, claimed they simply weren't up to the challenge and promptly bailed out of the relationship. Or married men who decided family life was no longer for them and walked away from their wives and children, not caring about the devastation they caused. Connor was no goody-two-shoes but he'd never understood how these men could live with themselves. In his view, such selfishness was beyond belief. Then again, he had never found himself in such a situation. Maybe when it happened to him he wouldn't feel quite so principled and heroic.

But now it
had
happened and Connor instinctively knew that he was incapable of turning his back on Mia. He didn't even want to. She existed, she was his own flesh and blood. Against all the odds - and he was aware that he was still in a considerable state of shock - he already couldn't wait to see her again, get to know her, discover what she was
like
.

They finally reached a small park. Laura sat down on the grass and said, ‘I'll get a crick in my neck if I have to look up at you.'

Connor lowered himself to the ground and sat cross-legged, facing her.

‘She's my daughter,' he said evenly.

Laura nodded. ‘Yes.'

‘You should have told me.' Connor shook his head; what kind of a heartless bastard did she think he was?

‘No,' said Laura.

‘Yes! I would have stuck by you,' Connor exclaimed. ‘OK, I know I was young, but I'd never have left you in the lurch! You didn't need to move away, we'd have coped somehow, between us we could have—'

‘Connor, I know you would have stuck by me,' Laura said gently. ‘You were a dear, sweet boy - you still
are
a dear, sweet boy - who wouldn't dream of leaving anyone in the lurch. But I didn't get pregnant by accident, you know.'

Bombshell number two.

‘What?' Connor wondered if this was how it felt to be struck by lightning. ‘But . . . but you were taking the pill.'

‘Wrong. I told you I was taking the pill. Because if I hadn't, you'd have insisted on using condoms, which didn't fit in with my plans at all.' A ghost of a smile flickered across Laura's face. ‘You see, I'd already made up my mind. I wanted a baby.'

She had always been the most fiercely independent and determined person he'd ever known.

‘A baby,' echoed Connor, ‘but not a partner? No husband or boyfriend to help you raise a child?'

‘The baby was the most important thing.' Laura was calmer now, regaining control. ‘Of course, if I'd met the perfect man I wouldn't have turned him down. But I didn't. I met you instead, and you were just a boy. I'd never have dreamed of landing you with the responsibility of a child. On the other hand, I couldn't have asked for a better father for my baby. You were tall, you had a great physique, you were healthy and bright and kind . . . let's face it, genetically you were perfect.'

Stunned, Connor said, ‘Is that what I was? A sperm donor?'

‘Oh Connor, don't make it sound horrible. I wanted a baby with your qualities. Can't you think of that as a compliment?'

‘And what about Mia? Growing up without a father?'

‘Lots of children grow up without a father.' Laura's jaw tightened. ‘It never did me any harm.'

Since now wasn't the time to start an argument, Connor let this pass.

‘So what happens now?'

‘Nothing happens,' said Laura. ‘Nothing's changed. You're free to walk away, forget you ever saw us.'

‘Jesus, I don't believe I'm hearing this!' Anger welled up inside him. ‘I didn't give you an old sweater, Laura! If I had, and you'd unpicked it and knitted it into a scarf, I can understand that I wouldn't have any right to march up to you and demand my wool back! But we've created a human being here. You can't seriously expect me to just walk away from my daughter as if she doesn't exist!'

‘Why not? Plenty of people do that too.' A tear dripped from Laura's chin onto the front of her shirt and Connor remembered that her father had walked out on her mother shortly after Laura's birth.

‘Well, I can't,' he declared.

‘Connor, you're twenty-one years old. You had a teenage crush on me and we had fun, but we don't love each other. Mia and I are fine as we are, just the two of us. It's sweet of you to offer, but we don't need the hassle of a man in our lives. And you shouldn't smoke,' she added firmly as he fumbled in his shirt pocket for his cigarettes and lighter.

‘Why not? Will it stunt my growth?' He was six foot two and he lit up with a don't-tell-me-what-to-do air of defiance.

‘Maybe not, but it could certainly stunt your breathing. It could kill you,' said Laura. ‘Plus, it's a very immature thing to do.'

Immature. Sensing the ammunition for further argument, Connor stubbed his Rothmans out on the grass, opened the packet and flung the remaining cigarettes into the air.

‘Litter lout,' said Laura. But she was perilously close to smiling.

Having picked up the scattered cigarettes and ostentatiously thrown them into a nearby bin - apart from one, which he slipped into his shirt pocket for later - Connor came and sat back down next to Laura on the grass. Interestingly, he had no urge to kiss her.

‘Look, you don't want me and I don't want you, but wouldn't it be handy for Mia to have a father? I wouldn't crowd you, I promise. I could just stay in the background, see her occasionally.' Connor presented his case with care. ‘But I'd be there if I was needed. Think of me as emergency back-up. If you ever fancied a weekend away, I could look after Mia. If anything happened to you, she'd have someone she knew to take care of her - until you were well again,' he added hastily, because Laura was looking alarmed. With a shrug he said, ‘Being a single parent must be exhausting. I'm just saying I could be useful.'

A lifetime of mistrusting men had left its mark on Laura. She held up her hands to stop him.

‘OK, you're saying this now, but what about when the novelty wears off? If I tell Mia you're her father, how is she going to feel in a few years' time when you decide you can't be bothered to see her any more? She'd be devastated.'

‘She wouldn't be,' Connor said patiently, ‘because I'd never do that to her. But you don't believe me, so how about a compromise? We won't tell Mia I'm her father. I'll just be a friend of yours. That way, she'll have a chance to get used to me.' He paused, keeping a straight face. ‘And then it won't come as too much of a shock on her fiftieth birthday when we do tell her the truth.'

 

‘Mia? Come here, darling, and say hello to a friend of mine. His name's Connor.'

‘Hi.' Connor crouched down on the pavement, so that he was level with Mia. ‘It's very nice to meet you.'

Close up, he saw that the tips of her long eyelashes were golden, like his. Her eyes were silver-grey and watchful. There was a smudge of mud on one plump brown cheek. His daughter. God, he was actually looking at his
daughter
. It was an emotional moment to be—

‘Like a box,' said Mia.

‘Um . . . sorry?'

She abruptly turned away, disappeared behind the stall and reappeared moments later carrying an empty cardboard box. ‘Like a box,' Mia explained, plonking it down on the pavement and pointing. ‘There's a corner. There's another corner.'

‘Very good. Nearly the same.' He hid a smile. ‘But I'm Connor.'

Mia gazed at him, unimpressed. ‘I know.'

‘Connor's coming to see us on Sunday,' Laura said brightly. ‘He'll be coming over to our house. That'll be nice, won't it?'

‘Yes.' Obediently Mia nodded. ‘You know dandelions?'

‘I do.' Connor waited to hear what profound remark might follow.

‘They're yellow.'

‘You know cows?' said Connor, not to be outdone.

‘Yes.'

‘They go moooo.'

He so longed to make his daughter laugh and decide she liked him. Instead Mia shot him a look of disdain.

‘But cows aren't yellow.'

Hmm.

‘Don't they have yellow cows where you live?' Connor looked dismayed.

‘No. Cows aren't yellow,
ever.
Do you like biscuits?'

‘Er . . . yes.'

Mia nodded. ‘And me.'

‘Here.' Taking pity on him, Laura passed over a slip of paper. ‘That's our address, and a map of how to get there.'

Connor looked at it. Had she just made this up, plucking a false address out of the air and inventing a map to go with it?

‘Don't worry.' Guessing what was running through his mind, Laura smiled. ‘That's definitely where we live.'

 

It was Mia's tenth birthday. Connor said, ‘Mia, sit down, I've got something to tell you.'

Mia was wearing purple shorts today, teamed with a lime-green T-shirt and grubby trainers. Obediently coming to sit next to Connor on the sofa, she hugged her tanned bony knees, spectacularly grazed from a recent fall from the apple tree, and said, ‘What is it?'

Connor took a deep breath. He'd been practising this all morning. The thing was, no matter how you dressed it up, there really wasn't any way of lessening the impact. Since Mia was a past master at coming straight to the point, he'd decided to take a leaf out of her book.

‘The thing is, you know your father.'

‘What?'

Oh God, he was messing it up already. The whole point was that she
didn't
know her father. Great start, Connor told himself, well
done
.

‘Well, it's . . . um, you know . . . me.'

‘Connor, what are you trying to say?'

‘Me.' He pointed to his chest. ‘I'm your father.'

Mia regarded him gravely for several seconds. Finally a slow smile spread across her face.

‘Really?'

‘Really.'

‘Thought so.'

‘Excuse me?'

‘I thought you probably were,' said Mia.

Connor wondered if she'd understood.

‘You thought I was probably your father?' When Mia nodded calmly, he said, ‘How? Why?'

‘Well, why else would you keep coming to see us? I'm ten now, and you've been visiting us for years. But you aren't Mum's boyfriend,' Mia patiently explained. ‘So that seemed a bit weird for a start. And you play Monopoly and tennis with me. When Mum's boyfriends are here, they never want to do stuff like that. They always tell me to go out and play.'

Shaking his head, Connor marvelled at the logic. ‘But you never said anything.'

‘I did once. I asked Mum, but she said no, you were just a friend. So I left it after that. You know what Mum's like. But I still thought I was right.'

‘And now?' Carefully, Connor said, ‘Is it OK? Are you happy about it?'

Mia gave him an are-you-kidding look. ‘Of course I'm happy! I love being right!'

 

‘Dad, Dad, look what I've had done!'

Connor's mouth dropped open at the sight of his beloved daughter raising her top to reveal a daisy tattoo round her navel. Horrified, he croaked, ‘You're only thirteen! I can't believe your mother let you have something like that! My God, what kind of tattoo parlour would risk—'

‘It's not a real tattoo.' Grinning, Mia said, ‘I do love you, Daddy. It's so easy to wind you up.'

 

‘Happy birthday, sweetheart!' As Mia flew into his arms, Connor picked her up and swung her round.

‘
Aaaarggh
,' cried Laura, because Mia's turquoise shirt had billowed up to reveal a tattoo of a dolphin peeping above the low-slung waistband of her faded jeans.

Plonking his daughter down in order to see what Laura was pointing at, Connor said, ‘It's only one of those transfer things, it'll wash off in a day or two.'