Page 99 of Love Is: Two Bodies One Soul

‘Yes?’

‘Good luck,’ she said, but somehow, he thought she had been going to say something else and had changed her mind at the last moment. Now they were back to reality – maybe doubts were creeping in. Perhaps the idea of shacking up with a penniless writer, failed TV journalist had less appeal in the cold light of October London.

‘Thanks.’ He did an on-the-spot shuffle, partly because he was cold, but mostly, because he was worried. Scared that Lexie was having second thoughts about him. Anxious about going to Brighton with her. Had she invited him to move in with her, or was it just a visit? He hadn’t thought to ask earlier, and he didn’t want to make the wrong assumption, but now it didn’t seem appropriate to ask when he was distracted, concerned how Margaret would react and, most of all, worrying about Emi and Lexie. He so much wanted them to like each other. ‘Look,’ he said, glancing at his watch. ‘I need to go … can we talk later? After Emi?’

* * *

By the timehe reached the usual rendezvous point, Margaret was already there, pacing back and forth.

‘You’re late.’

Predictable as ever, he thought and said: ‘A minute, only a minute.’

‘And where’s your coat?’

‘I lent it to Lex.’ He dropped to Emi’s height. ‘Hello cariad, are you okay?’ She looked like she’d been crying.

Her bottom lip trembled as she lisped: ‘Missed you, Daddy.’

‘I missed you too, my darling.’ He pulled her into his arms, letting her rest there. From the corner of his eye, he could see Margaret’s foot tapping in irritation in its expensive leather shoe. Now was the moment. He had to set things in motion with Margaret, or she would be beyond talking to. ‘Listen, angel,’ he whispered into Emi’s ear. ‘I need to tell your mummy something. Will you watch the swans for a moment?’

‘Aw, no. Pecilans!’ Emily protested.

‘Yes, pelicans. In a little while, just give me a few minutes to speak to your mummy.’

Emily sniffed and looked up at her mother. There was something too old in the way she regarded Margaret. Was it dislike or something even worse? ‘All right, Daddy,’ she conceded. Then in a tone that sounded remarkably like one of her mother’s peremptory orders, she added, ‘Then pecilans.’

‘What was all that about?’ Margaret said, foot still beating a tattoo on the tarmac as she watched her child meander along by the low metal railings separating the lake from the path.

‘I need to tell you something.’

‘I did rather work that out for myself, Owen. I’m not deaf, you know, and who is this, Lex?’

‘She’s …,’ Owen paused, not sure how best to describe what Lexie was to him. The love of his life was not something Margaret could understand.

* * *

‘Is that her, Daddy?’Emi pulled free of his hand and pointed to Lexie. She was where he had left her, sitting on the bench, huddled inside his jacket. Only now she had the company of a pelican, sitting alongside her on the bench.

‘Yes, Emi, that’s Lex.’

It had been easier to explain Lexie to his daughter. Perhaps because he didn’t want whatever he had with Lexie tainted by Margaret’s poison; he had found it impossible to share his feelings. In the end, he’d been offhand and settled on the casual description of a girlfriend. It was factually correct. She was a girl, and she was a friend, but it didn’t get anywhere near describing how important Lex was to him.

With Emily, he’d taken hold of her hand and said, ‘Emi, I’m taking you to meet my new girlfriend, the person I was telling your mother about.’

‘Now?’

‘Yes, Lex is waiting for us by the pelicans.’

‘Does she like pecilans?’ Emily asked, her curiosity dispelling an initial uncertainty.

‘I expect so.’

‘Come on, Daddy.’ Emily tugged, and Owen let her pull him along, still answering a torrent of questions: How old was Lexie? What colour hair did she have? Did she have children? What colour were her eyes?

They’d rounded a bend in the path and, without him having to point Lexie out, Emi had recognised her.

‘She’s got a pecilan,’ Emi squealed, her eyes bright with joy, and she raced off to meet Lexie and the pelican.

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