Page 8 of A Forever Home at Honey Bee Croft

JOEL

‘You’re early,’ Tilly muttered as soon as she opened her front door on Saturday morning, her face bearing the withering scowl I swear she kept in a jar by the door just for me.

‘Good morning to you too,’ I declared brightly.

I had a full day and night to spend with Imogen and I refused to let yesterday’s job news, Chez’s bad attitude, a million weddings to attend without a plus one and Tilly’s disdain for me spoil a single minute of it.

‘The roads were clear,’ I added, with a smile. ‘No tractors this morning.’

Tilly pulled her long, thick navy cardigan across her body and glared at me. She looked even more shattered than usual with pale cheeks and dark shadows beneath her eyes. I wanted to ask if she was okay – a genuine question from a place of concern for someone I’d once loved – but the last few times I’d done that, I’d had my head bitten off.Are you saying I look rough? Thanks a lot, Joel.

When Tilly showed no sign of inviting me inside, I added, ‘I can wait in the car if you prefer.’

‘I suppose you’d better come in.’

She sighed heavily as she stepped back – a typical warm welcome from my ex.

‘Imogen!’ Tilly shouted up the stairs as she led me down the hall towards the lounge. ‘Your dad’s here.’

‘Daddy!’ Imogen cried, running down the stairs. She launched herself into my arms, wrapped her legs round my waist and buried her head into my chest – exactly what I needed after yesterday.

I kissed the top of her blonde hair. ‘Are you excited about trying on your dress?’

She looked up at me, eyes shining. ‘I can’t wait! I’ve always wanted to be a bridesmaid.’

‘You were my bridesmaid when I married Greg,’ Tilly said, sounding and looking most put out.

‘But I don’t remember that, Mummy.’

‘She was only three,’ I said, and immediately wished I hadn’t. If looks could kill.

I lowered Imogen to the floor. ‘You go and finish getting ready, sweetie.’

‘And put those tights and a dress on like I told you,’ Tilly said. ‘It’ll be easier to try on your bridesmaid dress if you’re wearing tights.’

There was nothing wrong with Imogen’s T-shirt and leggings. They’d keep her warmer than tights and a dress and she could easily try the bridesmaid dress on over leggings, but I knew better than to go against Tilly’s wishes.

Without a word, Tilly shoved past me and I regretted not doing as I usually did – parking round the corner and waiting, knowing how much she hated it when I was even one minute early for picking up Imogen.

Greg was on the sofa watching cartoons with the rest of the family – his ten-year-old son Leighton from his first marriage, and the two kids he and Tilly had together, four-year-old Ezraand three-year-old Delphine. Every time I saw them all, I had a flashback to that Saturday morning when Tilly had pulled the rug from under me.The whole marriage and kids thing isn’t for me.Yep, looked like it!

‘All right, Greg?’ I said, by way of greeting.

‘All right,’ he responded flatly without shifting his eyes from the television. Leighton looked up and smiled at me, offering his hand for a high five, but the two younger ones were mesmerised by their programme.

Greg didn’t like me, but that was okay because I wasn’t his number one fan either and I had far greater reason to dislike the man who’d married the woman I’d loved and got to live with my daughter.

Tilly swept some wooden building blocks and a couple of soft toys off an armchair onto the carpet and indicated wordlessly that I should sit. She sat down in an adjacent chair, and I braced myself for the usual barrage of instructions, as though I had no idea how to look after our daughter.

‘Don’t let her stay up too late,’ she said. ‘No more than one fizzy drink and make sure she eats some fruit. Check when she brushes her teeth because the dentist said she keeps missing the back ones.’

‘You told me that the last few times. I’ll make sure we don’t upset the dentist.’ As soon as the words were out, I realised I should have just nodded along.

‘It’s not about upsetting the dentist, Joel. It’s about our daughter’s teeth. Do you want her to have fillings before she’s ten? Do you want her teeth pulled out because of decay?’

I could feel Greg’s eyes on me now but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of looking in his direction and seeing what I was sure would be a smug grin at me being dressed down.

‘I’m sorry. Please go on,’ I said, hoping I sounded sincere. Of course I didn’t want any of that but Tilly was going over the top.We shared the same dentist, and I’d asked him about Imogen at my recent check-up. He’d assured me that she had great teeth and he hadn’t been concerned that her brushing was ineffective. All he’d given was a gentle reminder to brush at the back which he gave to all children.

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