Page 56 of Love at First Sight

Cal focuses on the road ahead.

‘Come over, would you?’ Dad asks. ‘I can’t …’ More crying, like it hurts him to say it. Then eventually: ‘I can’t be alone.’

I explain that I’m visiting Ali in the Cotswolds, that I won’t be back until Monday.

‘I can see about a train, maybe,’ I say, scrambling to come up with solutions. ‘But I doubt there’ll be anything until morning.’

Cal leans across and whispers, ‘We can drive you back.’

I tell Dad to hang on and hit mute, so he can’t hear the discussion.

‘Noooo,’ I say, shaking my head. ‘Henry needs to see his mum. It’s fine. I can take a train tomorrow.’

‘Ali will understand,’ Cal says.

‘She won’t,’ I reply, and it just slips out. I can’t tell what the expression on Cal’s face means, and I feel horribly guilty. He purses his lips and looks out of the driver’s-side window, thinking.

‘Let’s drop Henry and then turn right back around,’ he says. ‘If your dad needs you, I think you should be there.’

‘Simone left him.’

‘I gathered. Tell him you’ll be there in the next, what? Three hours? Two and a half if we’re lucky, which we should be now. Roads will be clear at that time.’

I unmute the call.

‘Dad, somebody can give me a lift. I’ll come, okay?’

‘Okay,’ he says, voice small.

‘Can you take a shower and eat something?’ I ask, and he mumbles something about a beer first. Before we hang up, I say, ‘I love you, Dad.’

21

Ali is stood at the front door of the small cottage she’s staying in, backlit by the hallway light. She rushes to open Henry’s car door, and he stirs, spotting her and saying sleepily, ‘Mummy?’

‘Hi, baby,’ she says, stroking the hair off his clammy dream-tinted skin and kissing his forehead. ‘I missed you.’

Cal gets out and offers to carry Henry inside, and Ali shows him the way. I watch them go, a small pit of sadness in the middle of my stomach. I don’t think it’s Dad-related. It’s Cal-related, watching the ease with which he picks up Henry, the cosy scene of Henry’s half-closed eyes and Ali with her hand on Cal’s back, the picture-perfect family. I sigh, and it makes Ali turn around. She furrows her brow quizzically, and I hastily force a smile, giving her a thumbs up. She holds my eye and gives me half a smile back, and then is gone. I get Henry’s bag.

Once Henry is in bed, I try to explain to Ali that I need to go back to London.

‘But we need you here,’ she says, frustrated.

‘I know. I thought maybe Production could source you somebody? He’s my dad, Ali. I need to show up for him …’

Ali doesn’t say anything, her face doing all the talking. I know her well enough to get the gist.

Cal steps forward and offers: ‘I don’t really think it’s a problem, Ali, is it? I can nip her back, and then come tomorrow night, or Sunday? Take Henry home again on Monday morning.’ He looks to me. ‘Does that work for you?’

‘Yeah,’ I say, nodding, although I’m aware what I should say isno! Absolutely not!Ali is planning on proposing, after all. But. It’s my dad! Dad needs me. And if Cal can come back tomorrow to be proposed to, what’s the harm? He gives me a tiny smile, a comfort. I’m not alone.

Ali clears her throat.

We both return our attention to her.

Her eyes are narrowed, and she’s looking between the two of us. It makes my blood run cold and my face burn hot.

‘Interesting,’ she says to Cal, and yet she doesn’t take her eyes off me. ‘That you’d choose another woman over me.’

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