Page 36 of Faking It (and falling in love)

Philippa and Dottie walked towards the community centre where Hardev’s birthday party was being held. She wasn’t sure why his mum had chosen a weekday evening for it, least of all a Monday night. But Dottie was excited. There were rumours that there was going to be a Taylor Swift mega mix.

The blossom on the trees in All Saints Square smelled of the promise of summer, and Philippa breathed in the scent. This wasn’t so bad. She might be able to nab a few minutes outside and appreciate the warmth of the sun with another parent, if she could find someone she knew.

“Do you think I should have worn the blue top rather than this purple one?” asked Dottie as they opened the door to the hall.

“No,” said Philippa, “you look fabulous just as you are. I’m sure everyone else will think so, too.”

“Yeah,” said Dottie. “I think you’re right. Thanks, Mummy.”

Philippa smiled as her daughter swept into the room, very clearly scanning to see where her little gang of friends were. She took the card and gift she’d got for Hardev and placed them on an already overflowing gift table.

There were a few children she didn’t recognise, but she knew Hardev did lots of extra-curricular activities. Philippa was certain that was Mrs Khan’s tactic to managing her somewhat overactive child. It wasn’t a bad approach, she mused, watching as Hardev was mobbed by various groups of kids.

A young girl of about eight with red hair approached the gift table. Philippa smiled at her. She wasn’t from Dottie’s school. She looked anxiously at the table, which was well and truly full. “Do you need a hand?” asked Philippa. “Look, if I reorganise these things here, I think there is a tiny space for your gift. What a lucky boy Hardev is.”

The girl nodded, biting her lip, before turning to call to her mum. “Mummy, can you help me with my shoelace? It’s come undone again.”

“I can do that if you like,” said Philippa.

“No, it’s ok,” said a familiar voice. “I’ve got it.”

Alex.

Mummy.

Alex was ‘Mummy’?

“Um, hi,” said Alex, looking at Philippa’s stunned face. “This is Seren.” She knelt before the girl to tie up her laces.

Philippa looked down at Alex and the child. “Hi, Seren, nice to meet you. So, Seren’s your…?” she trailed off.

Alex looked up, having finished Seren’s laces. The little girl ran off to find her friends. “My daughter. Yes.”

Philippa was thrown. How could she have spent so much time with Alex and not have known she had a child? “But you never mentioned her.”

Alex stood up. “No.” She played with her hair, looking uncomfortable. “And I guess you want to know why.” Her eyes shifted left and right. She seemed more unsure of herself than Philippa had ever seen her before.

“Well, I mean, it’s your private business, I guess,” said Philippa, slowly piecing things together in her mind.Seren. The name was familiar. It had been mentioned on Alex’s birthday. “But if I’m totally honest, yes. I’ve told you all about Dottie and my divorce, and you even told me about your ex-wife a little. It seems a bit odd not to mention such a major part of your life.”

Alex frowned. “Yes, that’s fair.”

“And you give off this whole hedonistic ‘don’t tie me down’ vibe,” continued Philippa, “which seems quite at odds with that very sweet little girl. She has your eyes, by the way.”

Alex’s face lit up. “She does, doesn’t she? It’s weird, because technically we aren’t biologically related – my ex gave birth to her with donor sperm. But somehow, she looks like me, just with that beautiful red hair.”

“You don’t owe me any explanations,” said Philippa, who couldn’t help but be drawn by the warmth in Alex’s face when she spoke about her daughter. Briefly, she thought about how her lips would feel on Alex’s cheek.

“No, perhaps I don’t owe any, but I’d quite like to give one,” said Alex. “Look, they all seem pretty settled.” She pointed to the clump of children dancing to Sabrina Carpenter, thanks to the DJ and his disco lights. “Let’s get a bit of fresh air outside.”

The square was beginning to turn pink as the sun sank below the church, enhancing the colour of the blossom.

“I love spring,” said Alex. “It is a good reminder that there’s always hope.” She looked sad, and Philippa desperately wanted to take her hand. There it was again, that something that seemed to pull her away from people, from joy.

“Me too,” said Philippa. “And you know, thereisalways hope. Although I have to say, you don’t look like you’re convinced.”

“Well, today is a good day,” said Alex, ruefully. “The reason I don’t talk about Seren is that I barely get to see her. After my marriage broke down, my ex moved into a different house. Tostart with, Seren shared her time between the two of us. But bit by bit, month by month, Jess – my ex-wife – has eaten away at my time with her.”

Philippa frowned. This reminded her of some of the cases she supported her clients with. Alex went on. “There’s always an excuse for her not to come to me, always something more important Seren needs to be doing. She knows Hardev through karate, but I haven’t even been able to take Seren to that. Jess always does it. She says I’m too chaotic, that I have too many girlfriends, that I’m a bad influence.”

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