Page 24 of Out of Control

“First things first.” Fiona opened the Calendar app on her phone. “What date are we aiming for?”

“What about the seventeenth?” Joe suggested. “It gives us time to prepare but there’s still a week to go before Christmas.”

“Entertainment,” Adele said. “Your Father Christmas friend . . .”

“Meeko? I’m sure he’ll be amenable, for a small fee.” Fiona smiled. This was killing three birds with one stone: she was offering a helping hand to both Adele and Meeko. And she’d have her best friend present if her courage turned turtle and she couldn’t cope. “And I’ll pay his fee — my contribution to the party.”

Joe frowned. “You said I was banished from the actual party because I’m a man. Why is Meeko allowed to be there?”

“As the entertainment, he’s fine to be there,” Adele confirmed.

Fiona went back through her list. “We’ve made a good start.”

Joe leaned over and kissed his daughter on the forehead. “This baby shower will run like a dream. Even if I’m not there to oil the wheels.”

It was the first time since Adele’s arrival on her doorstep that Fiona went to bed feeling there was harmony in the house. And she felt satisfaction and pride that, despite her ongoing sadness over Amber, she was able to offer Adele help. She used these positive emotions to quash the anxiety that was rising and falling within her whenever she thought about the shower and its emphasis on babies and new life.

Joe must have picked up on the household’s good vibes too. That night they made love for the first time since Adele had moved in — albeit as quietly and unenergetically as they could.

Chapter 19

Fiona had only been to Meeko’s flat once before. That had been during lockdown when they’d met on the pavement outside to go for a walk. Meeko had suffered financially during the pandemic and had had to dip deep into his savings to pay his rent. Fiona counted herself as one of the lucky ones — being in IT, she’d been able to work at home, and most days had featured several online meetings. By the time evening came she’d been glad to escape the laptop and take her prescribed daily exercise.

Meeko’s flat was in the attic space of a tall Victorian house. Fiona picked out his bell at the bottom of a column of four and pressed. A minute later a slightly breathless Meeko appeared, gave her a hug and gestured her through an inner door leading to a stairwell.

His flat was tiny. Washing hung drying on a rack, a slight smell of garlic tinged the air, and the door to a tiny bathroom was wide open, showing the toilet with a raised seat. The kitchen took up the back third of the living area and had a window over the sink which, she guessed, must look down into the garden. The window at the front, in the sitting area, had a view over the road she’d just walked up.

“Sit down.” He gestured at a settee draped with a burnt-orange tie-dyed throw. Fiona wondered whether it was left over from Lynn’s occupancy.

“Breakfast.” She made a show of handing over a small brown paper carrier from the delicatessen containing croissants (for him), a perfectly ripe avocado plus a tub of prawns (for her) and a cardboard tray holding two takeaway lattes, one normal (for him) and one decaffeinated oat milk (for her). “Plate, bowl and spoons only are required.” Surreptitiously, although Meeko couldn’t have failed to notice, she placed a supermarket bag-for-life behind the kitchen counter containing muesli, bran flakes, a loaf of bread and a premium lasagne ready meal.

Meeko provided the crockery and Fiona decanted the foodstuffs, adding paper serviettes with an exaggerated flourish.

“Sorry about . . .” He licked croissant crumbs from his lips and gestured around the flat. “It’s cheap and, well, there’s only me now . . .”

“I like it.” It wasn’t a lie; the flat had a lived-in, cosy feel. There were full bookshelves and only a tiny TV — signs of someone who has their priorities right. It was just a bit chaotic for her. And there was nowhere to store or hide the chaos. “So, how does this card thing work?”

“You’re going to ask me simple questions about your future and I’m going to answer them using an ordinary deck of cards.” He pointed to a pack of playing cards on the windowsill. “But first, we finish eating.”

Fiona scraped the inside of the avocado skin and double-checked the prawn container was empty. Meeko had nearly finished his second croissant, spread thickly with jam that he’d produced from the kitchen. After the third and final croissant was gone, he gestured that he needed to wash his hands.

A few minutes later they were seated across the table from each other with only the takeaway coffee cups and deck of cards on the surface. Fiona felt a seed of apprehension in the pit of her stomach. She reached for the coffee. Was she going to learn something she’d rather not know?

“First we need to calm our minds and release all that inner chatter.” Meeko closed his eyes and took deep breaths. Fiona followed suit, imagining it was the introduction to one of his yoga sessions. After a couple of minutes Meeko opened his eyes and repeated his earlier instruction. “You need to ask the cards a question.”

Fiona chewed the inside of her cheek and then rubbed her arms. Logic told her this was all mumbo jumbo but still a swirl of nerves mixed with the prawns and avocado. Meeko looked at her intently and for a second their eyes locked. Something sudden, awesome, tingly and infinitely more pleasurable replaced her fear. She looked away from him, confused.

“There must be something you’re curious about,” Meeko persisted. “Your life is upside down at the moment and you hate it. Don’t you want to know if you’re ever going to be its ringmaster again?”

He didn’t need cards in order to read her like a book.

“OK.” She took a breath. It had only been a week since she’d finished work and Joe had moved in, but it felt like years. During that time, the tight rein she’d kept on her life had begun to slip. Did she want to pull it tight again? Yes, and no. She remembered the warmth of opening up and letting Adele have the spare room. And then the painful memories of Amber triggered by the pregnant girl’s presence. She remembered the shock and shame of discovering exactly how lonely her mother was. And the relief that the old lady had finally felt able to open up to her. Fiona didn’t want to strangle these two fledgling relationships by pulling too hard and clanging doors shut. But the presence of Adele meant Fiona and Joe had no privacy and she missed the fun they used to have on their weekly date nights. And father and daughter weren’t getting on well — which fed into the disquiet between Fiona and Joe. It would get worse when the baby arrived. If Rose didn’t reappear from India, Fiona’s precious home office sanctuary would have to be converted into a nursery. She couldn’t bear that. Such a conversion had almost happened once before. In another house. A long time ago. That had been a welcome conversion, but bar the paint buying, it had never taken place. Which relationship should she prioritise? Adele would disappear when her mother returned but, now theteething problems were sorted out, she and Joe might make it in the long-term. It might be kinder all round if she plucked up the courage to ask Adele to leave now. Joe’s brother, Adele’s uncle, lived nearby in a big house with empty bedrooms. That would keep the new baby at a more tolerable arm’s length and leave her and Joe free to concentrate on each other.

“Should I ask Adele to leave before the baby is born?” She spoke slowly and deliberately, addressing her question to the pack of cards, not directly to Meeko. Looking at Meeko might cause that awkward tingling inside her again and there was no future in such a tingle.

“Good. That’s exactly the sort of yes/no question that the cards can answer.” He shuffled the cards, cut the deck and then merged the two piles back into one. “Red cards meanyes, and black cards meanno.” He asked Fiona to turn over the top card. The three of spades.

She stared down at the black card and the answer she didn’t want.

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