‘They were very close,’ I tell him. ‘And she was distraught when he died. That’s when she started going off the rails. It was only a few months after his death that she got pregnant.’
‘She’s had a lot to deal with,’ he says with a heavy sigh. ‘Having a kid when you’re just a kid yourself is tough. She puts up this hard exterior but I can see through it. I know her more than anyone, I really do, and I can see that she’s damaged. My old mum used to say to me that when I was a nipper I was forever trying to fix things, make them better, and it was the same with women. I’ve always gone for the ones who need putting back together.’
Someone drops a glass and the noise makes us both jump. Paul holds his hand to his chest, breathing hard. For once I don’t feel like the weak one.
‘It’s okay,’ I say, putting my hand on his arm. ‘It was just a glass.’
‘I know,’ he says, pulling his arm away and rubbing it. ‘I’m a bag of nerves at the moment. I’m sorry.’
‘You don’t have to be sorry,’ I say, taking a sip of wine. ‘I understand what you’re going through.’
‘Thanks, Kate,’ he says. ‘Thanks for coming back. You know you’re all she has left now.’
‘She still has Hannah,’ I say, putting the glass down. ‘And no matter what, she can’t give up on that girl. That’s why she has to get better, not for me or for you, but so she can reconcile with her daughter.’
The colour drains from his face.
‘I’m sorry, Paul. It must be hard. I know you were close to Hannah too.’
‘Ha. As close as you can get to a feisty teenage girl.’ He laughs hollowly. ‘She was thirteen when I got together with Sal. Do you remember, they were living with your mum?’
‘Yes,’ I say, smiling. ‘I remember Sally called me and said she’d met this gorgeous guy over the garden fence and I thought she’d lost her mind because the only person I remember living next door was this bloke called Mr Matthews and he was about ninety.’
Paul laughs.
‘Your parents had bought it, hadn’t they?’ I ask.
‘Yeah. Old Matthews was put in a home and his son sold it to them,’ he says. ‘That was in 1994, just after you left. They had a good few years, then they died within a few months of each other.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Nah, they’d had a good innings,’ he says. ‘Still, it was a blessing and a curse them leaving me that house. I’d never really liked Herne Bay. I always found it depressing. My folks would drag me here on holiday every year and I just wanted to stay home in Bethnal Green and hang out with my mates. But Mum and Dad loved it. They always said they would retire here and they got their wish.’
‘It seems strange that you stayed here when you hated the place,’ I say, pouring myself another glass of wine. ‘You could have just sold the house. What made you settle here?’
He leans forward and smiles, his eyes glazed with the drink and the lights.
‘Sally,’ he says quietly. ‘Sally changed everything. I’d decided to rent out the house and the plan was to stay in my flat in London but then when I was showing the estate agent round the garden I heard a whistle. I turned and there she was. All my plans went out the window.’
He takes a sip of beer. I can see this is hard for him.
‘She was so excited,’ I tell him. ‘Said you looked like a short Liam Neeson.’
Paul splutters on his drink then wipes his mouth.
‘Liam Neeson? Was she having a laugh?’
‘Just happy, I guess.’
‘Yeah, we were happy,’ he says. ‘But I could see right from the start that she had her hands full with Hannah. Boy, did that girl give her some stick. I remember the first day I came round for Sunday lunch. We got as far as the second course and an almighty argument broke out between the pair of them. I can’t remember what it was about, too much gravy on her spuds, I don’t know, but I was taken aback. I know if I’d called my mum the names Hannah called Sal I’d have been given a good hiding. But she wasn’t my daughter; it wasn’t up to me to discipline her.’
‘Do you think the drink played a part in their problems?’
‘Possibly,’ he says. ‘Though it was more of a social thing at that point.’
‘But drinking can make people short-tempered,’ I say, remembering how my father’s rage would be magnified when he’d had a skinful.
‘Looking back, I probably was a bit blinkered,’ says Paul. ‘I think I just wanted to see the best in Sally.’
‘We all did.’ I drain my glass and, without thinking, pour myself another.
‘It was your mum who finally told me about Sally’s drinking. I think she thought I should know,’ says Paul. ‘She said that when Hannah was a kid Sally used to drag her to the pub and make her sit outside while she got drunk.’