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‘Well, that’s more what I’m worried about.’
Killian frowned, and leaned back against the cabinets, tilting his head in question.
‘I think something’s up with Esme. Do you think she seems happy?’
Killian shrugged, ‘She spent all summer at the skate park, playing with the local kids, she’s still her polite, book-obsessed self... sure, I think she’s happy.’
‘But she put her leather jacket away in the cupboard, her backpack hasn’t got any patches any more, and she’s hanging out with a girl who wants to teach her dance routines,’ Mollie frowned, ‘She hates that. It’s like when I gave her a Barbie doll and she turned the hair pink with a highlighter and cut it off.’
Killian shook his head, sipping at his coffee, ‘Molls, she’s gone into Year Six, she’s got one year to either ignore everyone and wait until secondary school, or try to make friends. It’s got to be pretty lonely, being as smart as Ez is. She lives in this awesome world where she has all these people who love her and she lives in an art centre. Her family are constantly doing these fun events, and people like me are being added gradually. She probably hasn’t got the same frame of reference as those other kids. And what you learn to do in that situation is hide the parts that are different, muffle them, just a bit. It’s survival instinct. Esme’s smart, but she’s not changing, she’s just blending in.’
Mollie tugged at her hair and sighed, ‘Yeah, you’re right, I guess. I just... she’s growing up.’
‘You’ve got years of teenage fights and drama ahead, don’t worry about it,’ Killian awkwardly patted her shoulder, ‘Focus on being freaked out about tomorrow’s on-screen debut. Do you know what time they’re coming?’
‘Six-thirty a.m.! I was gonna ask Evie to take Esme to school, if it runs over.’
‘Sure, if not, I’ll take her, I’m finishing a project tonight and then I’m free tomorrow.’
Mollie grinned, ‘I really am glad you stuck around.’
‘Didn’t have much of a choice. That Evie, she kind of gets under your skin.’ Killian drained the coffee, ‘Anyway, I’ve got a day bed to build. And seeing as there’s no cookies or baked goods to keep me from my work...’
He wiggled his eyebrows hopefully and Mollie rolled her eyes, handing him a cookie from the jar, ‘Incorrigible.’
‘That’s what they tell me,’ he laughed as he walked off back to his studio, and Mollie returned to her baking, turning her worrying from Esme’s school life to her own countdown to a national television appearance. She wasn’t sure which one was more upsetting, but one was definitely more immediate. She got out her mixing bowl.
***
‘And then what happened?’ Chelsea placed her hand on her chin, grinning as she sucked on a lollipop. Evie was pretending not to be interested, painting her nails a dark shade of purple, her fluffy socks with the pigs on rather ruining the goth-girl illusion she liked to save for the rest of the school. Ruby was sitting awkwardly, legs in her sleeping bag, tucking her knees up under her chin as she pursed her lips.
‘Chels, you don’t ask a girl for the gory details,’ Ruby raised an eyebrow.
Mollie paused, quite liking the brief moment of being the centre of attention. She paused in brushing out her long blonde hair, and winked at Chelsea, saying nothing. Mollie never got to have any of this, she was the quiet one, the shy one. Boys didn’t talk to her because they thought she was standoffish, or a ‘stuck-up princess’. But Jamie MacAllister didn’t think that.
‘He just walked me to the bus stop after the party,’ Mollie blushed, ‘It wasn’t a big deal.’
Evie snorted, ‘Yeah, it was. You look like you’re about to take flight.’
‘Well, that’s fine for you guys, you’ve all dated people and slept with people and...’
‘Hey Miss Assumptions, who do you think we’ve slept with?’ Chelsea raised an eyebrow.
‘Tommy,’ Mollie pursed her lips and watched as Chelsea’s shoulders lowered and she huffed.
‘Of course, they say anything. Molls, some advice, as nice as they seem, don’t go off alone anywhere with them for longer than ten minutes, because then they can tell all their mates you shagged them. When really, you got a half-hearted kiss, choked on the chewing gum they hadn’t thought to take out, and then let you walk home by yourself. Men are dicks.’
Ruby frowned, wriggling out of her sleeping bag and hopping up next to Mollie on her bed. Linda was out at a party of her own, and the sleepover had been planned weeks in advance. The party at Bridget’s house, then coming back early (because it would clearly be lame) and watching silly movies in their pyjamas. But it hadn’t been lame, someone had scored some beers and WKDs, there were older boys and the music was good. And there had been Jamie, Jamie who she had known since they were kids, seeing him around the playground, and then suddenly he’d transferred to their school this year, looking tanned and smiling with those perfectly white teeth, his floppy brown hair looking just so teen heartthrob.
And he’d seen her. He looked past Chelsea’s confidence, Evie’s thoughtfulness, Ruby’s beauty, and he saw her, standing at the back, as she always did, hands clasped, staring at the walls and wondering how long she had to be here until she could just go home and relax with her friends.
‘It’s Mollie, isn’t it?’ He’d said, grinning as if he was so happy to see her, ‘We went to primary school together, right? You probably don’t remember me.’
But she did, and for once, she was the girl who sat at the bench at the bottom of the garden, nursing a drink and talking to a boy who was interested in everything about her. For once, Mollie was the girl who shone, unfurling into light as someone listened. She felt important, special, cherished. And she had never experienced that feeling since.
***
Mollie was elbow-deep in wholemeal flour when her phone buzzed. A text.
Hi, this is Max, Olivia’s dad. I have your daughter. You can have her back under the following conditions. Haha. Address below.
Mollie blinked. Um, jokes about stealing kids were not a great start when you’d left your kid with a stranger. The phone buzzed again:
Obviously, I haven’t stolen your kid. Sorry. Not smart. Feel free to pick her up at seven. Max.
Mollie snorted to herself, and looked at the clock. Crap. She ran upstairs to get changed into her running gear, as Evie insisted on dragging her out every Thursday, especially tonight when she needed to de-stress before her debut tomorrow morning. Luckily, Olivia and Max only seemed to live a few streets over, and Mollie hurried.
She rang on the doorbell of the extremely impressive townhouse, the bright blue door with the stained glass windows giving her a very good impression of Olivia’s life before the door even opened.
She pulled on the old-fashioned doorbell and counted eight seconds before a man answered the door. His dark hair was slightly curly and he was almost clean shaven, with dark eyes and a warm smile. There were hints of grey in his hair, and the sleeves of his expensive white shirt were rolled up haphazardly. He looked effortlessly rich, and relaxed.
‘You must be Esme’s mum,’ he smiled, standing back from the door, ‘come on in, I’m Max, obviously.’
‘Obviously. Mollie.’ She held out a hand and he looked at her, incredulous, before taking it and shaking smoothly. ‘Hope Esme wasn’t any trouble.’
‘I doubt she’s capable of trouble. All I can tell is they’ve been practising dance routines for hours, and ate dinner before running off again. She’s a very healthy eater, she said that’s your influence.’
‘I’m setting up a healthy eating programme for kids,’ Mollie shrugged, about to explain about the news segment the next day.
Max frowned, ‘And how is it different to anything else that’s already out there? What’s your angle?’
Mollie bit her lip, ‘Um, I guess it’s not, except that I’m adapting dishes to make them healthy, so that kids can still have chocolate brownies, they’re just made with black beans instead.’
‘Ah, okay, so a hippie-dippie “make it with quinoa” approach,’ Max turned his back to her, ‘Liv, Esme’s mum is here.’
‘What is everyone’s problem with quinoa?’ Mollie mumbled to herself, waiting for her daughter to thunder down the stairs and leave this awful place with its cream carpet and the blue Persian cat staring at her from the windowsill.
‘And the problem with quinoa is more about how it’s causing farmers to starve in Bolivia, rather than any issues with taste or texture,’ Max answered smoothly, his lip quirking. Mollie considered the man, who was clearly ten years older than her, and spoke with an authority that suggested he was either a professor or an arsehole.
‘And what do you do?’ she asked in that way people do when they’re looking for a reason to judge you.
‘Finance.’
‘Of course,’ Mollie said simply, then called out, ‘Esme, I’m waiting here sweetheart!’
A small dark-haired head appeared at the top of the bannister, the sort of girl who would have bullied Mollie at school. She had poker straight hair and a perfect headband, wearing a t-shirt that said ‘Glamorous’ across the front. She smiled serenely.
‘Daddy, Esme and I are just tidying up my toys – perhaps Esme’s mummy would like a glass of wine while she’s waiting?’
She disappeared upstairs again to the sound of childish giggles, and Mollie was sure they were suddenly being watched.
Max quirked an eyebrow, ‘The kid’s got a point. Red or white?’
‘Sorry, I’ve arranged to go running with a friend, so I need to get Esme home,’ Mollie said, calling up the stairs, ‘Esme, I’m running with Evie this evening, please get your things together now.’
‘Oh good, you’re actually working out, I thought you might just be one of those mums who wears yoga pants everywhere, even though it’s clear they never actually work out.’
Oh god, thought Mollie, so my business idea’s unoriginal and I look like I don’t work out. Is there one man who doesn’t want to stamp all over me this week?
‘Yes, I actually run.’
The silence stretched out between them as Esme came down the stairs grumbling, letting her backpack fall from each step with a thump.
‘Pick up your bag Ez, and say thank you to Olivia’s father.’
Esme glared at her, ‘I was going to say thank you anyway. Now it looks like I wasn’t going to, and I’m rude. Thanks!’
Max intervened, ‘I would never think you were rude Esme, thanks so much for joining us today, it was a pleasure to have you. Come around again any time you like.’
Esme turned to her mother, nose held in the air, as if to say ‘see?’ but turned back to Max with a huge smile, ‘Thank you for having me. Dinner was lovely.’
Max nodded and Olivia waved from the stairs.
‘Lovely to meet you Mollie. Rain check on that glass of wine,’ Max nodded, that assurance the rich have evident on his face.
‘Definitely,’ Mollie smiled as the door closed behind them, ‘on the tenth of never!’
They walked silently for a few moments, Esme walking faster than necessary before Mollie stopped her.
‘Hey, lady, what’s with the attitude?’
Esme whirled round, ‘Why do you have to ruin everything?!’
‘I’m sorry your play date had to end early, you know I’ve got a very important morning tomorrow, I thought you were happy for me!’
‘Not about that!’ Esme shook her head, ‘Why did you have to turn up wearing that? And you’ve got flour on your nose!’
Mollie paused, ‘So I embarrassed you in front of your new friend and her dad. Well I’m sorry about that.’
Esme shot her a fierce look, like she was being dim on purpose, ‘You were supposed to have some wine with Olivia’s dad. And you were supposed to turn up looking all pretty like you always do when you pick me up. And then maybe you and Olivia’s dad would go on a date.’ She crossed her arms and huffed, ‘But you ruined it.’
Mollie smiled at the little girl with glitter on her face, her light eyes darkening as she glared at her mother, arms crossed, pout at the ready.
‘Baby, that’s very sweet of you, to want to set me up...’ Mollie crouched down and swept some hair behind her daughter’s ear, ‘… but Olivia’s mum just left, do you think maybe he might need time to be sad about that?’
‘Olivia said it happened ages ago,’ Esme shrugged, ‘and this way we’ll stay good friends and he seems nice, her dad. I’m usually right about these things.’
‘You were right about Evie and Killian,’ Mollie acknowledged, ‘I’ll give you that one, kid, but not everything works out like that.’
‘But I’m right about Tyler and Celia too,’ Esme grinned wickedly, ‘I started a bet with Killian about whether they’ll kiss before Chelsea’s wedding.’
‘Tyler is, whilst being very nice, a little bit gangster, and Kit’s sister was head girl at her school. They’re friends, that’s all. And it’s not nice to bet on people,’ Mollie sighed deeply, worrying that her daughter might be right about Chelsea’s brother. He was hanging around a lot more these days, and Celia always seemed to mysteriously turn up to events at the gallery when he was around.
‘Look, Mum,’ Esme shook her head seriously, ‘you’re not very good at this stuff, you need to trust me with it. I can find you someone really nice. Olivia said it’s really nice having a dad, someone to take you places and protect you and tell you not to go out wearing that... she said I should have one, and she doesn’t mind sharing hers. That’s nice.’
Mollie took a deep breath and tried to count to five, ‘Yes, but are you happy to share me? So I’d have to do things with Olivia, just her and me.’
‘No you wouldn’t – she already has a mum!’ Esme’s frown was deep set, and she suddenly didn’t like the idea any more. Mollie took her hand and led her over to the bench by the bus stop, sitting down side-by-side as the light started to soften into darkness.
‘Sweets, why were you really playing with Olivia today? I know you don’t like dance routines and girly stuff. What’s going on?’
Esme pressed her lips together and pulled on the sleeves of her grey hoodie, ‘She’s the only other kid who has one parent.’
‘You’re kidding,’ Mollie frowned, ‘Seriously? How is that possible?’
‘Or the only other one who admits it. Some of the other kids were asking where my dad was because they were talking about inviting their dads to some school thing. And when I said I didn’t have one, they asked about my stepdad. And when I said I didn’t have one of those they said... they said I must be horrible and that’s why I don’t have a daddy.’
Mollie fought the urge to bundle her daughter up into her arms and start ranting about what horrible tossers all those kids were, but she held back, watching as her daughter took deep breaths and set her jaw, not allowing herself to cry.
‘Oh baby, why didn’t you tell me?’ Mollie stroked Esme’s cheek, and watched as her daughter’s eyes met hers.
‘I didn’t see the point,’ Esme shrugged, ‘We must both be pretty horrible if he left both of us, but I know that’s not true because you’re lovely.’
At that point Mollie did pull her in close, squeezing her and letting her own tears fall, ‘You are not horrible. Your dad didn’t leave because of you, or me. We were just kids and he wasn’t ready to be a dad. You know how I’ve always told you girls are more grown-up than boys? Well I got pregnant with you, and I grew up so I could be a mum. But he wasn’t ready to grow up, so he didn’t become a dad. That’s all it was, baby girl. We have the loveliest life, don’t we? With Chelsea, and Evie and now Evelyn and Killian and Kit. All these people who love you and think you’re amazing. So what’s one man who couldn’t grow up?’
Esme nodded, sighing deeply and squeezing her mum’s hand, and saying, ‘Okay, but if you have to pick me up from Olivia’s again, will you say yes to the glass of wine?’
‘Maybe. Depends if you’re hanging out with Olivia because you actually like her.’
Esme shrugged as they started walking along, ‘She’s nice enough, she doesn’t read though. Which is weird.’
‘Very weird.’
They walked along in silence, Mollie stopping herself from reaching out and grabbing her daughter’s hand. She wanted to wrap her in cotton wool, keep her safe, she began to wonder why she hadn’t put herself out there earlier, whether she’d been selfish in thinking she’d been enough for her daughter. She should have started dating earlier, maybe she’d have found a suitable father figure by now.
‘Mum, don’t you miss him?’ Esme asked suddenly, looking up at her, ‘My dad, I mean?’
‘No baby, I don’t miss him. I don’t ever really think about him.’
Mollie felt her stomach clench as they carried on walking. It was the first lie she’d ever told her daughter.
Chapter Two
Mollie had barely slept that night, the fear of the next morning’s TV appearance – coupled with the overwhelming guilt that she had failed her child in offering her an alternative family – plagued her until the early morning. Evie had shrugged it off on their run, reminding Mollie of her own feelings about it as a kid, wondering who her own father was, but Mollie remembered the only reason she even wanted a dad was because she couldn’t stand her mother. Is that how her daughter saw her? As someone she wanted to escape from?
It was still dark when she got up and started putting on her make-up and her clothes, double checking her outfit and going downstairs to the studio, to await the camera team. She put the kettle on and got out the semi-healthy mini pastries she’d made the night before, putting them in the oven to puff up, gloriously brown and crispy, filled with chocolate and banana slices. She’d try to save one for Killian, especially if he was taking Esme to school that morning. It was hard to know how long the segment would run for, or what exactly they wanted. She’d set out some of her baked goods and recipes on display on the long table in the gallery, each item looking Instagram perfect and ready for the camera. Baked sweet potatoes piled high with roasted red peppers, Omelette Bites, Black Bean Brownies, Banana and Choc Chip Muffins – the whole arsenal of her healthy recipes, ready to defend what she was doing absolutely.
Max’s voice kept circling, asking what was so special about her, what was so great about what she was doing, why was she unique? She had no answer.
But there was the knock at the door, and there was the team, with them the plucky reporter – recently upgraded from weather-girl – Maureen McTavish. She smiled sweetly and her teeth gleamed, huge and white, taking up most of her face.
‘You must be Mollie! Ilyaria’s told us so much about you and the great work you’re doing! I can’t wait to see everything!’
Mollie welcomed them in, told them where to set up and passed round teas, coffees and fresh pastries to everyone. They treated her like she was an angel, fussing over the pastries and asking for the recipes.
‘Tell me about this place, Mollie, how did you end up here?’ Maureen smiled, those teeth slightly less unnerving as long as you didn’t allow the Jaws theme tune into your head.
‘Oh, well this space was left to us by our childhood friend, Ruby Tuesday, the singer? This used to be her studio, and she left the lease to us, to start up an arts centre. So now we’re up and running, with community events, classes, lots of stuff for kids, and I wanted to bring my passion to the front.’
Mollie was pretty proud of herself.
‘Ah, so there’s the angle,’ the presenter grinned to herself, nodding her head, ‘I’ll be sure to mention Ruby. And you run this with a partner?’
‘No, two friends from school, Ruby brought us all back together again, and here we are.’
‘Damn I wish we were filming already, I’m not going to ask any more questions, you’re much better natural,’ Maureen smiled again, flicking her dark, silky hair and positioning herself in front of the camera.
‘Ready?’ she grinned at Mollie, ‘So I’ll ask some questions, we’ll do some shots of the food and stuff and we’re good to go.’
‘Oh, okay.’
‘So, good morning people of Britain! Have you ever thought about what your kids are eating? Well, of course you have, with childhood obesity such a big thing in today’s society, and junk food being more prevalent. We’ve got food specialist and creator of Mollie Makes... here with us today. Good morning Mollie!’
‘Hi!’ Mollie squeaked.
Maureen continued her spiel at the camera, ‘We’re here today at the Ruby Rooms in Camden Square, where Mollie and her friends have set up an arts centre in the space left for them by – wait for it – none other than musical superstar Ruby Tuesday! What do you think Ruby would say about your healthy eating programme Mollie?’
That there were worse things you could do to a kid than give them an extra-large chocolate bar, and she’d experienced most of them? Mollie sighed.
‘Um, Ruby really cared that every kid got the same opportunities, that health and hope weren’t just reserved for the kids with rich parents, which is why –’
‘Well, that’s an excellent point, so can you tell us what you want to do with Mollie Makes...?’
‘Everything is fresh, wholesome and healthy, but there are still treats kids can have. My little girl is pretty open-minded when it comes to food, but I’m pretty sure if I’d told her these chocolate brownies were made with black beans, she wouldn’t have gone near them. But she loves them,’ Mollie shrugged, ‘I’m catering birthday parties, after-school clubs and hoping to look into making lunch boxes. Our kids are suffering because parents don’t have enough time to go through the packaging on food and figure out what’s had sugar added to it, what’s unhealthy, what’s going to leave them struggling to concentrate at the end of the school day. Believe me, I know how exhausting it is to be a parent!’ Mollie smiled, ‘My aim is to make that choice simpler, by providing fresh, creative alternatives to treats.’
Maureen turned back to the camera, ‘And we can attest to how delicious these treats are, folks! So Mollie, what’s next?’
Mollie tugged on her blonde ponytail and looked anxiously at the camera, ‘Well, I’m running a parents-and-kids cooking class, focusing on some of the nicest treats, and easiest dinner options, so kids and parents can connect through cooking healthy food together. The course starts in a couple of weeks and is run here, at the Ruby Rooms.’
‘Well that’s all we have time for, but thanks Mollie, for talking to us about your wonderful treats, and feeding us some of them! Look on the Morning AM website for Mollie’s Black Bean Chocolate Brownie recipe and for more information on the workshops.’
Mollie wasn’t sure whether to say ‘thank you’ or not, so she just smiled inanely until the little red light on the camera went off.
‘The guys will just get some shots of all of the food. Our team will email you for the recipe – it’s a good way to promote!’ Maureen smiled, ‘And I like that you didn’t feel you had to overplay the “I’m a mum” card, showing a bit of skin, I liked it.’
Maureen nodded at Mollie’s shirt. She looked down and noticed the severe amount of cleavage on show and almost fell over, ‘Oh, Maureen, sorry, do you think we could do it again? I didn’t realise...’ she gestured at her top and the woman simply smiled knowingly.
‘Oh, you’re very good. I really do wish you the best Mollie, I think what you’re doing is great, and you obviously know how to sell it.’
‘Oh no, it wasn’t –’
‘You’ll go far, Mollie,’ Maureen winked, ‘I think we’ll be hearing from you again.’
The team left soon after, the cameramen grinning at her, thanking her for the food, and Mollie collapsed onto the sofa, wondering how she always managed to make a fool of herself.
In Crouch End, not far from the studios, a man sat aimlessly watching morning television. He hadn’t slept that night, or the night before, and the mindless chatter of the television kept enough of his attention to stop his mind wandering. There were things he didn’t want to think about. He was back on leave from the army, and he knew the routine – it would take another two weeks before he could properly sleep.