‘Yes. I’m hoping to visit Teresa while I’m here.’
‘I’m afraid that won’t be possible. Teresa is frightened of strangers. Not that you’re a stranger,’ he added hastily. ‘But she’s not acquainted with you on a daily basic and a visit would destabilise her.’ He slammed the footrest back into position when Nicole called them into the dining-room to eat.
‘I’ve just been explaining to Karl that visiting Teresa is out of the question,’ Jock said when they were seated around the table.
‘Why?’ Nicole asked. ‘ Mom would enjoy a visit from him. You know how bored she gets sitting in that room on her own.’
‘Remember what happened when she saw Seth?’ Jock’s chin jutted forward. ‘How long did it take before she calmed down again? I don’t want a repeat of that experience.’
‘Then let’s not talk about it over dinner.’ She avoided Karl’s gaze as she placed bowls of rice and chicken curry on the table.
‘Don’t want any.’ Sasha pouted and pushed her plate away.
‘Come on now.’ Jock tore a slice of naan bread in two and handed one half to her. ‘No more of this nonsense at mealtime.’
‘Don’t… want… any,’ she repeated and stared defiantly back at him.
‘It looks delicious,’ said Karl. ‘Why don’t we have a race and see who gobbles everything up first?’
She allowed him to coax her into eating a small portion but messed with her food throughout the meal. He, too, had trouble eating. In prison, the food was bland and, now, free to eat whatever he wanted, everything on his plate seemed tasteless. Had he lost his ability to savour the spices Nicole had added to the sauce, to enjoy meals that once made him salivate?
‘Seth?’ He followed her to the kitchen, where she was setting a tray with dessert dishes and a blueberry pie. ‘As in Seth Kilbourne?’
‘Seth’s a family friend.’ She removed a bowl of ice cream from the freezer.
‘He’s also your ex-fiancé. I thought he’d moved to California.’
‘He’s back in Highbridge.’
‘Visiting your mother?’
‘Once. It wasn’t a good idea. It’s so hard to tell with Mom.’
‘Does he visit you… and Sasha?’
‘Of course not. You mustn’t create situations that don’t exist, Karl.’
A prolonged shriek from the dining-room interrupted their conversation.
‘What’s up with her now?’ Nicole, recognising the beginnings of a Sasha tantrum, sighed loudly, the tray tilting dangerously when she lifted it.
‘Let me.’ Karl took the tray from her and followed her into the dining-room, where Sasha was standing angrily in front of her grandfather.
‘Stop your nonsense at once,’ Jock shouted. ‘I’ve told you before, princesses don’t do tantrums.’
‘I’m not a princess,’ she shrieked. ‘I’m Sasha.’
‘Let me handle this, Dad.’ Nicole spoke quietly and Jock, responding to the authority in her voice, sat back in his chair.
‘Look at the mess she made.’ He pointed towards an upended plate of curry and a seeping brown stain spreading across the tablecloth. ‘She did that quite deliberately.’
‘I hate you.’ Sasha pushed past him and buried her face in Karl’s knees. ‘Granddad said you’re going away again,’ she sobbed. ‘He’s a big, bad liar.’
‘Enough of that talk now. That’s not what I said, Sasha.’ Jock tried without success to placate her. ‘I told you that your daddy will have to go back to Ireland at some stage because that’s where he lives.’
Karl felt her shudder, her grip on his legs tighten. ‘Come here to me, darling.’ He lifted her in his arms. ‘Daddy’s not going anywhere without you.’
She rubbed her fists into her eyes and sobbed. ‘Where’s my Dora doll? I want my new Dora doll.’
She was still sobbing when Nicole returned with the doll. ‘Why don’t you show Daddy your bedroom?’ she said. ‘He’ll read you a bedtime story. Tomorrow he’ll be back here again and we’ll have a lovely day together.’
Karl carried her upstairs and took down a book from her bookshelf. Lulled by the sound of his voice, she was asleep by the time the story came to an end. Jock was watching American football on television when Karl came downstairs.
‘Is she asleep?’ he asked.
‘Yes. She was overexcited.’
‘She was fine until today,’ he said, without taking his eyes from the screen. ‘We’d settled her into a routine but now she doesn’t know what’s going on.’
‘What’s going on is that her father has come to see her,’ said Karl. ‘I’ve every right to knock her routine out of kilter. That’s not what’s bothering her and you know it.’
Jock shrugged without replying and raised the volume. Karl had forgotten just how much he disliked his father-in-law. Time and distance had softened the memory but, now, looking at the width of his wide neck, his self-assured jowls, he felt the familiar loathing kick in stronger than ever.
Nicole was stacking the dishwasher when Karl entered the kitchen.
‘I want to see Sasha on my own tomorrow,’ he said.
She closed the dishwasher door and wiped down the worktops, working speedily, efficiently. He had always admired her ability to bring order to a room in minutes. She had used the same skill to restore order to her life when it was in danger of spinning out of control.
‘That won’t be possible,’ she replied. ‘While you’re here, you can see Sasha as often as you like. But I insist on being present at all times.’
‘Why? Are you afraid I’ll do what you did and kidnap her?’
‘Kidnap? What exactly are you implying?’
‘You took our daughter from me without my permission. Do you have another definition for kidnapping?’
‘I had no choice. I was needed here.’
‘Stop lying, Nicole.’ He wanted her to stay still and listen to him. ‘You had a choice and you decided to leave me. Sasha is the one who had no choice. The impact that’s had on her is obvious. I want custody of my daughter. Do you understand?’
‘No, I don’t understand.’ She kept her back to him as she stacked a chopping board against the wall. ‘What exactly do you plan to do with her? Where will she live?’
‘Where she’s always lived.’
‘Don’t lie to me, Karl. I know the bank is foreclosing on the house and you’ve already lost your job—’
‘I’m well aware of what I’ve lost.’ Bitterness. It had a taste that sickened him, sour, like vinegar tainting a fine burgundy wine. Finally, Nicole grew still and faced him. Her lips puckered, as if she, too, could taste the sediments of loss.
‘I wish I’d been stronger, more trusting,’ she said. ‘Everyone seemed to have an opinion on Twitter, Facebook, all those chatrooms—’
‘Chatter. That’s all it was,’ he said. ‘The echo chamber. Sounds so harmless, doesn’t it?’
She blinked, her eyes lustrous with tears. ‘Matthew was distraught when he told me about that conversation in the attic. I kept it to myself until they found Constance. Then I couldn’t… all that publicity… it had destroyed me.’ Tears streamed down her cheeks. ‘I understand why you can’t forgive me. But we must still work together to decide what’s best for Sasha.’