Impossible to forget, p.23
Impossible To Forget, page 23
Jax was in York. How long had he been here, with the potential to bump into her around every single corner she had turned? It must be at least three years. Angie tried to remember how new Hope’s relationship had been when they had first met, but the facts, such as they were, danced in her head and were impossible to catch. Angie hadn’t listened that hard, not really having any interest in Hope’s boyfriend.
Now she tried to delve deep into her memory for any snippets of information. He was a chef, she knew that. They had met at some do when he was doing the food and had spilled something down an expensive dress that Hope had been wearing. Angie remembered Hope telling the story, her eyes dancing with the sheer delight of it all, relishing how uncomfortable he had been about his mistake and how she had strung him along, knowing all the time that there would be other dresses.
What else? Angie squeezed her eyes shut as she tried to concentrate, but when she did that all she could see was Jax, open-palmed in abject apology to Hope, and then their embrace. Her Jax, in love with someone else.
She checked herself. She was being ridiculous. He wasn’t ‘her Jax’. He hadn’t been for years. Hadn’t he left her for someone else when Romany was a baby? That relationship hadn’t lasted either, it seemed. He obviously didn’t do commitment, full stop.
And she couldn’t complain that he had someone new when she hadn’t wanted him anyway. It had been her decision not to keep in touch. She had been the one who had let the tenuous links between them fall away. That surely told her something. Whatever the two of them had had, it had broken when she became pregnant. Their relationship just hadn’t been strong enough to withstand the storm that an unplanned baby brought with it.
So, he had been in York all this time, she thought, yet she had never seen him. It wasn’t that surprising. York was a city and she’d hardly been keeping an eye open for him. Also, she was vegan now, so she wasn’t likely to be frequenting the kind of fine dining establishment that Jax ran, or even mix in the same circles as him. Hope’s circles. She had seen who they were at the party tonight and if it needed confirming, then that had done it – she and Hope were like chalk and cheese socially.
They were quite alike in other ways, though, Angie thought, she and Hope. Was that what had attracted Jax to her in the first place? Had he seen something of Angie in her and been drawn to it, maybe without even realising that it was happening?
She was being ridiculous now. Apart from anything else, Hope was beautiful and bound to attract men, regardless of her personality. But there was, Angie supposed, a possibility that she was the reason that Jax was in York. Well, not her exactly, but Romany, his daughter. Maybe he had moved to York to be near his child and had hoped that he would bump into her one day.
But how would he even recognise her? The thought of Jax walking the streets of York and staring at every girl of approximately the right age struck her as unbearably sad. Poor Jax, deprived of the chance to contact his own flesh and blood simply because Angie had decided that she did not want to send a forwarding address.
Angie uncurled herself and sat up. The low murmur of the television had stopped and there was no longer a line of light underneath her bedroom door. Romany must have gone to bed. Her baby, untroubled by the fact that her parents had been in the same room together that very night.
So, what should she do now? It would be easy enough to get hold of him. All she had to do was ask Hope. But what would she say? Hi Hope. Would it be okay if I arranged to have coffee with Daniel because, guess what! He’s the father of my teenage daughter! How weird is that!
No. She couldn’t do that. She could track him down herself. A chef named Daniel Jackson with a part-share in a restaurant in York couldn’t be that difficult to find.
But why would she? She didn’t want him. She didn’t want to do anything to spoil what Hope had with him. And, most importantly of all, Romany had made it very clear that she did not want to see him either.
No. Angie should leave things as they were. But at least now, if anything were to happen, she would know how to get hold of him. Suddenly she felt slightly less alone.
38
2017
It was bitterly cold and Angie pulled her coat round her and worked on the zip. Her fingers were icy-stiff, and the coat was a snugger fit than it had been the previous winter. She really was going to have to lose some weight. It hardly seemed fair when she ate like a bird anyway and led an active lifestyle, but it was, she supposed, one of the very many calling cards of the menopause. She wasn’t very impressed with any of them so far. She was suddenly more tired than she had ever been and her back ached despite her lifelong yoga practice. If she let herself, she could become ground down by the injustice of it all. But she wasn’t going to. Going through the menopause was a perfectly natural process that happened to every woman lucky enough to reach their middle age. Her downbeat response to it was all about mindset, and hers just needed a little bit of work. She made a mental note to write her feelings on the subject in her journal when she got home.
Today, however, was not a day for getting down in the dumps. Today she was going to see Tiger for the first time in over three years and she was insanely excited. This was the longest that they had ever gone without seeing one another, she calculated as she crossed the bridge and made her way along the city wall to the railway station to meet him. It had been far too long.
There were bright yellow daffodils all over, exploding from every grassy bank and trumpeting the arrival of a change in the season. Not that it felt like anything was changing just yet. There was definitely snow in the air, she could smell it, and the cruel wind whipping up off the river bit through to her marrow.
Once in the station, she settled herself on the circular bench in the forecourt to wait. She enjoyed watching the tourists mixing in with the locals, each easy to spot by the way they behaved as they left the station. The locals set forth confidently, clear on where they were going, the tourists emerging through the ticket barriers and then stopping, agog, as they found their bearings, phones and guidebooks at the ready to take them on a whistle-stop tour of York’s top spots before coming back here to be whisked away by the train again.
Another twinge in her lower back forced her to shift on the uncomfortable wooden seat. Maybe she should go and see an osteopath or get Kate to give her some acupuncture. That might help. And she could have another look at her diet books. As well as helping her lose her newly rounded tummy, they might have something to say about what to eat to help with painful joints. Ginger was good, she knew, and broccoli.
And then there he was, strolling towards her, rucksack on his back. His rich mahogany tan made him stand out a mile from the pale, insipid people surrounding him. He seemed to glow, his shaggy blond hair forming a halo around his head.
Angie didn’t quite leap up, mindful of her painful back, but she stood as quickly as was wise and pushed her way through the crowd towards him, ignoring the protestations of those who were in her way. When she reached him, she threw her arms around his shoulders and pulled him tightly into her, inhaling the familiar scent of him, unchanged after all these years. He rested his cheek on the top of her head, and she could feel his arms encircling her. For the first time in forever, she felt safe and cherished. She hadn’t realised that the feeling had been missing from her life until this moment, and the thought brought tears springing to her eyes. She blinked them away, knowing that Tiger would only tease her for such a display of emotion and not wanting to give him the ammunition, not yet at least. There would be plenty of time for teasing later.
He was the first to break away.
‘Okay, okay,’ he said, his voice light and full of humour. ‘Put me down, woman. You don’t know where I’ve been!’
This was true.
‘Let’s go and get some food and you can tell me everything,’ she said, giving him one final squeeze before loosening her arms and letting him free.
He grasped her hand in his as they set off towards the exit. His skin felt dry, from hours in planes and trains, she thought, and she could feel his rough skin, his calloused fingers scratching against her smooth, strong ones. They both had working hands, but their work had left very different marks.
They had a brief discussion about what kind of establishment they wanted to go to. Tiger thought it would be funny to settle his scruffy, unwashed self in the lounge of the smart hotel next to the station, just to irritate the management. He really hadn’t grown up at all. Back in the day, this would have amused Angie too, but now she just wanted uninterrupted time with him without drawing any unwelcome attention. Also, she couldn’t help but think that his unkempt traveller’s appearance wouldn’t cause the consternation now that it might have done back in the eighties. The sensibilities of the world had moved on in the previous three decades, although not, it appeared, for Tiger.
They found an ordinary café instead and settled down in a corner. Tiger leaned his precious rucksack against the wall next to him, stepping his foot through the strap so that no one could take it without alerting him. Angie thought that this kind of precaution was probably unnecessary here, especially given the size of the rucksack, but Tiger had done it as second nature without even seeming to be aware of the movement. An ingrained sense of precaution came as a result of years of carrying your life on your back, she assumed.
‘So, where have you been?’ she asked. ‘Did you stay on in the Cayman Islands? That’s where you were the last time I heard from you.’
Tiger ran his hands through his hair. It was beginning to thin a little now, Angie noticed, his forehead more prominent than it had once been and etched with long horizontal lines.
‘God, no,’ he said. ‘Had to leave there in a hurry a year or so ago. Some local difficulty with the dive school owner’s wife . . .’
He pulled the ‘oops’ face that she had known for decades and she shook her head.
‘You’re fifty years old. Have you not learned to leave well alone yet?’
‘Christ, fifty,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘How the hell did that happen? But no, to answer your question, it appears not! Anyway, I hopped over to Jamaica for a season, but I didn’t like the vibe there and someone told me about a new eco-village in Costa Rica, so I’ve been there. You have to go to Costa Rica, Ange. It’s amazing. The people are so friendly and they’ve got the tourist/eco balance thing spot on. They haven’t even got an army.’
He chattered on, telling her about the village, built from sustainable sources deep in the rainforest, and about the wildlife.
‘And the bloody howler monkeys,’ he said. ‘When I first got there, I thought I’d never sleep again. They make such a racket. But it’s like anything else really. Eventually you get used to them and then after a bit you don’t even hear them any more.’
Angie listened to him, transported for half an hour or so to a place that she might never get to see, but just happy to be in his company. Then, when he’d finished telling his immediate news, he focused his attention on her.
‘And how are you?’ he asked. ‘How’s Romey, and the business?’ Then his eyes met hers, his expression questioning. ‘No. Forget them for now,’ he said. ‘How are you?’ he asked again. The second time there was concern in his voice. ‘You look tired, Ange,’ he said.
‘I look old, you mean,’ Angie said, wrinkling her nose.
Tiger shook his head. ‘No. It’s not that. You don’t look anywhere near your age. But you do look like you could sleep for a month.’
‘Oh, it’s just the bloody menopause,’ she said.
Tiger put his hands up, palms facing her, and dropped his head. ‘Okay! Too much information. Us blokes can’t be doing with all that gynaecological stuff. It sets our teeth on edge.’
Angie laughed at him. That was Tiger all over – emotionally intelligent enough to ask the question, but never prepared to hear the answer.
‘And to answer your other questions, Romany is amazing. Wait until you see her! She’s gorgeous and intelligent and wise. And gorgeous. Did I mention that bit?!’
Tiger grinned at her. ‘Of course she is,’ he said. ‘She’s your kid. Remind me. How old?’
‘Sixteen,’ Angie said proudly.
‘Christ! Already?’
‘And you’ll never guess who is back in town.’ Angie paused for a heartbeat, even though there was no likelihood of Tiger coming up with a name. ‘Romany’s dad, Jax. Remember him?’
‘The tree-hugger? Yes. Well, vaguely. Don’t think he was that impressed by me. So, have you seen much of him? Are you two . . . ?’ He winked and made a lewd hand gesture.
Angie raised her eyebrows in disbelief. ‘You’re never going to grow up, are you? No. We’re not together. In fact, he doesn’t know that I know he’s here.’
Tiger looked confused. ‘So, how . . . ?’
‘Saw him at a party and then ran for the hills before he saw me.’
‘Does Romey know?’ he asked.
Angie shook her head, scrutinising his face for a hint of what he was thinking. ‘She’s made it very clear that she doesn’t want anything to do with him, so I’m respecting her wishes.’
‘But you don’t agree?’ he asked astutely.
Angie cocked her head to one side. ‘It’s up to her, I suppose. She’s old enough to make her own decisions. But I can’t see what harm it would do to at least say hello. I wondered if that was why he moved up here, so that he could be close to her. I have no idea, of course, but the thought crossed my mind.’
‘Perhaps you should talk to her again,’ Tiger said, pouring the last of his tea into his cup. ‘If she knows her dad is so close then maybe she’ll think differently.’
‘Maybe,’ said Angie, but she was doubtful.
‘Or you could meet him without telling her,’ Tiger suggested.
Angie went to take a sip of her peppermint tea to buy herself some time, but her cup was already empty.
‘I thought of that too,’ she said. ‘And it would make sense to check in with him, so he knows that I know he’s here. But . . .’ She paused, hoping that Tiger would fill in the gaps for himself.
He did.
‘But you don’t want to stir the ghosts of the past,’ he said.
‘Precisely. I’d rather leave my memories of him safe where they are. And his of me.’
She blushed a little as she said this, ashamed of the vanity that she knew was, in part at least, keeping her from meeting the father of her child. She didn’t want Jax to see her as she was now, over fifty, a bit fat, her skin lined and not quite clinging to her frame as once it had.
‘Romey’s a bit young to be making such a big decision for herself, though,’ said Tiger then, with that quality he had for seeing straight to the heart of the issue. ‘Plus, she might just be saying that because it’s what she thinks you want to hear.’
Angie’s insides screwed into a tight little ball. He was right. She knew he was. But she didn’t want to address it. Not now.
‘Maybe,’ she replied, to close him down. ‘I’ll think about it. But I know where he is now, so at least we have options.’
‘Options are good,’ replied Tiger, seeming to understand that this part of the conversation was over.
They sat in silence for a moment, the hustle and bustle of the café continuing around them. China chinked, the coffee machine hissed, people chatted. The sounds of the world just doing its thing. It felt good, Angie thought, to pause. She should do it more often. Mindfulness was something that she talked about endlessly to her clients and she tried to approach each day being grateful for what she had at that moment, but sometimes even she got lost in the business of living.
‘And how about you, Tiger?’ she asked him after a while. ‘What are your options?’
He gave her a quick grin. The expression was a familiar one, but was there something new in it now? Doubt, maybe, a disquietude that she hadn’t seen in him before, or at least not recognised as such.
‘I’ll just keep doing what I do,’ he said. His smile was broad now, with no hint of whatever it was she thought she’d seen in it a moment ago.
‘You can’t keep travelling forever,’ she said.
‘Why not?’
She thought that his tone bordered on the defensive, fleetingly, but that too was gone in an instant.
‘As long as I have strength in my bones, I intend to keep seeing the world.’
‘But don’t you ever want to stop, to pick a place and just settle there?’ she asked him.
Tiger shook his head. ‘Not so far. And I can’t see it happening, either. There’s still so much to see.’
‘There can’t be that much.’ Angie laughed, and Tiger shrugged.
‘There’s enough to keep me going for a while yet,’ he said.
Angie couldn’t let it drop, though. ‘You could find a base somewhere, just so that you had a place to go home to, and then keep travelling from there,’ she suggested.
‘And how would I pay for it?’ he asked simply.
This was a good point and not one that Angie had really considered. She nodded, accepting that he was right.
‘Fair enough,’ she said. ‘How long are you here for? You’re welcome to stay with us for as long as you like,’ she added.
Tiger reached across the table and took her hand. ‘You are the kindest person I know,’ he said. ‘But I can’t do more than a night on that sofa. I’m on my way up to Newcastle. I met a bloke in Costa Rica who lives up there, so I’m going to stay with him for a month or so. I’ll get some work cash in hand before I head off again. I’m fancying the Highlands and Islands of Scotland, do some bird-spotting, but I have to wait for the weather to warm up a bit.’
Angie had an idea, and suddenly it felt like the best one she’d had in a long while. ‘Why don’t you stay at least for tonight and I’ll ring Mags and Leon. We can have a little party just like we used to. What do you reckon? Good idea?’
Tiger’s face lit up. ‘How is Maggie?’ he asked fondly. ‘Got herself hitched yet?’
