Dee sighed. Sam often asked her about his father but somehow today it was even more poignant, given that she'd been talking to Neil only a few hours earlier. 'You know that story off by heart, Sam.'
'Please, tell me again,' he wheedled.
She put an arm around his shoulders and hugged him against her. 'Oh, okay, then. Your daddy's name was Neil and he was handsome and funny and he had curly brown hair, green eyes—'
'Just like me!'
She laughed. 'Yes, just like you.'
'But he doesn't know about me,' Sam said, bowing his head.
Dee gulped. 'No, we split up before I knew I was going to have a wonderful little boy.'
'But if he knew, he'd be here, wouldn't he?' Sam prompted.
Dee closed her eyes and pulled him closer. 'Yes, and he would be the happiest man in the world.'
'Can't we find him, Mummy?'
This was also a common question and Dee realized that there would be more and more as he got older. 'No, sweetheart, I'm afraid we can't.' She took a deep breath. 'But maybe someday, he'll find us.'
Sam stopped and craned his head so that he could look up at her, his eyes shining. 'Do you think so, Mummy?'
She shrugged and smiled. 'You never know and, in the meantime, remember you've always got me and Aunty Pauline and Uncle Jack. And how many children do you know that have a playschool in their house?'
Sam giggled. 'None.'
'And how many have Martha and Lisa to mind them when Mummy isn't around?'
'None.' He was smiling broadly now.
'And,' she added, 'how many of them have as many grown-up friends as you? There's Conor and Ronan and Julia.'
'And Vi and Doctor Bill and Sheila and Lauren,' he added.
'And Matthew and Ger,' Dee reminded him.
Sam's smile faltered. 'Ger isn't really my friend.'
'Sure he is.'
'No,' Sam shook his head firmly, 'he doesn't like me; he doesn't like kids.'
'I'm sure you're wrong,' Dee lied, amazed at her son's insight.
'And Aunty Peggy!' Sam's face lit up again. 'We forgot Aunty Peggy!'
'Now how did we forget her?' Dee said faintly, forcing herself to keep smiling. Dear God, she
had
completely forgotten Peggy. Forgotten the woman and how she fitted into this whole picture and what would happen if Sam's daddy did 'return'.
'But I still don't have a granny or granddad,' Sam said sadly.
'Maybe not, but I think we've established that you've got quite a lot of friends, haven't we?' Dee nudged him playfully.
'Yeah,' he grinned, digging into his chips once more, 'and we haven't counted any of the other kids yet.'
Dee groaned dramatically. 'Oh no, I'm never going to get to bed tonight!'
Sam giggled. 'Don't be silly, Mummy, there aren't
that
many.'
'Okay, let's see if you can name them all before we get home.'
After a bath and a story, Sam curled up with his numerous teddy bears and was asleep in minutes. Dee went into her bedroom, changed into pyjamas and went back downstairs. Getting a beer from the fridge, she took her pad and pen from the drawer and sat down on the sofa to think about possible topics for the
Right Now
programme. But though she was excited about the programme and eager to come up with some good ideas for Carolyn, all Dee could think of was Peggy.
It was strange that the woman hadn't been in touch, she realized now. She knew as well as Dee did that they were now in a very difficult situation. Sam was young but he wasn't stupid and it was going to be hard to explain to him what it all meant. Dee was still staring at her blank pad when the phone rang. She leaned forward to grab it and stuck it against her ear, spilling beer in her lap in the process. 'Shit! Hello!'
'Charming.'
'Sorry, Conor, just spilled beer all over myself.'
'Is that my fault?'
'Yep.'
'I could bring you a refill,' he suggested.
'Nah,' Dee yawned, 'I don't really want it. I'm heading to bed.'
'I could help there too,' he said, chuckling.
Dee was about to tell him to come on over but she knew she'd end up telling him about Neil and Peggy and then he'd start to advise her and—
'Dee? Are you still there?'
'Yeah, sorry, I'm just asleep on my feet.'
'I'd better go and let you get to bed.'
'Yeah, do you mind? I'd invite you over, only I'd probably be asleep before you got here.'
He chuckled. 'I'll try not to take that personally. Why don't I drop by in the morning to sample your muffins?'
She grinned. 'Okay, then – oh, no, sorry, I won't be here.'
'Oh, where will you be?'
She hesitated for only a second. 'I'm going in to Dublin to visit a couple of recruitment agencies to see if I can find a decent cook,' she told him, closing her eyes and cringing as she lied.
'That's great, Dee, you could do with the help.'
'So your dad told me.'
Conor was silent for a moment. 'He's just trying to help.'
'I know that, Conor,' Dee assured him, 'and he's right. Look, why don't I call you when I get back? I can fill you in on all the news then.'
'Great, talk to you tomorrow, 'night, Dee.'
'Goodnight, Conor, sleep well.'
Dee groaned as she put down the phone. She knew that Conor knew that she'd been a bit weird with him but he'd let it go. She knew he thought it all came back to Neil and, she supposed, he was right. She'd have to explain to him exactly what was going on and soon. But not yet.
Sam slept like a baby which meant that when Dee rose at five-thirty she felt reasonably refreshed. Despite her worries she had slept well which was fortunate, given that she had until eight-thirty to pack in a day's cooking. Then she would wake Sam, make breakfast and get him dressed. She hoped he was not in a philosophical mood because she really didn't think she could handle any more questions about Daddy or, God forbid, Aunty Peggy.
She was feeling quite nervous about meeting Neil so she was determined not to think about it for now and instead threw herself into her work. To distract herself she decided to see if she could come up with topics for the
Right Now
show. She found she could always think clearly when she was working in the kitchen and had left her pad and pen nearby in case she was inspired. Her current preoccupation was to come up with rules for reading labels that would make them a bit easier to interpret. For instance, how many people knew, she wondered, that ingredients were listed in order of quantity? That would make them think twice if they saw sugar second or third on the list or in the case of most jams, first!
She finished kneading the wholemeal bread, cleaned her hands and picked up the pen. She felt a sudden buzz at the thought of helping people make better choices when they were filling their shopping trolleys. She thought about all the confusing facts about fats, and scribbled down another note before going to the fridge and taking out the fish she had to gut and fillet. There really were enough topics to keep a slot like this going indefinitely, she realized, and smiled happily. She had no wish to be famous but she was definitely enjoying the idea of dipping her toe in such a completely different pond.
For so long her life had been divided between the kitchen and the crèche and the highlight of her day had been dropping in to the café. The thought of visiting a TV studio every week as part of the team filled her with excitement and adrenalin and made her realize what a dull life she'd been leading. Still, she hadn't a lot of choice and she'd made the best of her lot. She had Sam and she enjoyed her work and that was more than most people could say, but there was no doubt that she was ready for more. Initially it had been all about money, and that was still important, but now it was also about fulfilment and Dee couldn't wait to get started.
There weren't going to be enough hours in the day at the rate her life was going, she thought, as she put the prepared fish back into the fridge and sat down at the table to peel potatoes. She really would have to get an assistant sooner rather than later. Before she'd gone to bed last night she had checked out the Golden Pages and was delighted to discover a recruitment agency that specialized in catering not far from the hotel where she was meeting Neil.
Meanwhile, Lisa had placed an advert in the paper for two childcare workers with both experience and qualifications. Dee had queried whether the latter was really necessary but Lisa was adamant, saying it would show commitment to childcare as a career. 'Too many girls use it as a stop-gap until something more interesting comes along and I don't want them. I want to put together a team of people who love children, are dedicated to the job, and can rely on each other.'
Dee thought this was probably a tall order, but she could understand how Lisa felt. Having worked alone for so long she was nervous of sharing her kitchen with someone else. Her other concern, she'd confided in Lisa, was the thought of bringing strangers into her home.
'Don't you worry, we'll check and double check their references,' Lisa told her vehemently. 'We're not bringing any weirdoes, robbers or perverts into this house. And before I hire anyone for the crèche, you've got to meet them and be sure you're happy with them too.'
Dee had appreciated her friend's sensitivity and promised to do likewise. Whoever was going to work in the kitchen would have to have the best of references and be good with children, too, or it would never work.
Dee dumped the bowl of potato peelings, filled the pot of potatoes with cold water, and put them on to boil. It was almost seven, the bread was ready to come out of the oven, the muffins were ready to go in, and it would take a little over an hour to prepare the fish pie. She wouldn't cook it as Ronan had decided, where possible, to finish the dishes off in the café and thereby entice the customers in with the mouth-watering aromas.
By ten o'clock, Dee was pulling up outside the café and Ronan looked surprised when he opened the door. 'You're early,' he said as he came out to the car to help her.
'I'm on my way into Dublin,' she explained.
'You look very nice. Are you going somewhere special?'
Dee ducked her head as she felt her cheeks flame. 'I'm going in to visit a recruitment agency.'
'Wonderful!' He beamed delightedly. 'I'm sure you're doing the right thing.'
Dee thought of introducing Sam to his daddy. 'Yes, I think I am.'
They carried the food into the restaurant and Dee turned to leave. 'Right, I'd better get going. All the instructions are taped to the lids.'
'That's fine; you go on and the very best of luck.'
She smiled, feeling guilty at the genuine affection and sincerity in his face.
'Thanks, Ronan.'
She hurried out to her car, praying that it would survive yet another journey into the city and for the first time that morning allowed herself to think about what she was doing. 'Why do I feel guilty?' she murmured to herself as she joined the slow stream of traffic heading into the capital. 'What choice do I have?' But she knew the issue wasn't the choices she was making but the deceit. She would tell Conor, of course she would; it just wasn't the kind of thing you discussed over the phone.
It had been a mad, chaotic week. She had hardly had time to turn around, let alone talk. She had a lot to tell him, she realized, quite apart from seeing Neil. Maybe they could go for one of their marathon walks over the weekend and while Sam raced ahead on his bike, she could bring Conor up to date. It would be nice to spend some quality time together and it would get Sam off her back. He had complained yet again this morning that it had been days since he'd seen Conor.
The traffic moved relatively quickly and soon Dee had parked the car and was walking briskly towards the hotel. It was five to eleven and Neil had never been the punctual sort so she probably had time to have some tea and catch her breath before he put in an appearance.
She was surprised, then, as she walked into the large, comfortable lounge, to see that Neil was already ensconced on a sofa near the window, a pot of tea in front of him and the newspaper spread out by his side. She stood watching him for a moment and, as if sensing her scrutiny, he looked up and waved, his face breaking into a wide, happy grin.
She walked across the room, conscious of his eyes on her. 'Hi.'
'Thanks for coming, Dee.' He quickly folded his paper and moved up on the sofa but Dee took the chair opposite and immediately a waitress appeared at her elbow.
'Tea or coffee?' Neil asked her.
'Tea please.' She smiled at the young girl.
'You look great,' he said, when they were alone again.
She shrugged. She was in her customary jeans, but she'd left her hair loose so it swung around her shoulders and she'd carefully applied some eye make-up and lip gloss, reasoning that she had to look presentable if she was going on to the recruitment consultancy. At least that's what she'd told herself.
'How's Sam?'
She nodded and smiled. 'He's great.'
'I've been thinking about him a lot and I can't stop looking at the photo they printed in the
Daily Journal.
He's gorgeous, just like you.'
'It's not a great photo, and he's actually more like you.'
His eyes lit up. 'Is he really?'
'Yes, and just as untidy.'
He laughed. 'I'm afraid that hasn't changed.'
'I have some photos with me if you'd like to see them,' she offered. She couldn't really believe that she was sitting here chatting in such a civil manner, but if he was going to be a part of their lives, she would have to make an effort to put the past behind her.
'Great!'
She sat back as the waitress served her tea and then passed him the envelope that she always carried with her.
Neil carefully took out the photos and studied them. The first was one of Sam playing in the snow, his cheeks red and his eyes bright with excitement as he stared into the camera. 'How old was he in this one?'
Dee leaned closer to see which photo he was looking at. 'Three. He'd had the flu and been in bed for days and he was terrified that the snow would be gone before he got a chance to play in it.'