‘Of course you do. He’s your dad! A daughter’s role in life is to worry her dad!’
‘He isn’t my dad.’
Christmas carols wailed out of the loudspeakers in the shopping centre and a bag dug into the back of Lara’s leg as shoppers elbowed past them, but she didn’t even notice. ‘What do you mean, he isn’t your dad? Of course he’s your dad.’
‘No.’ Chloe shook her head violently. ‘Christian married my mum. And they had Aggie. Aggie is his child. I’m not.’
Lara opened her mouth and closed it again, wondering why Christian had never thought to mention that fact. ‘I don’t know what to say.’ Her voice came out in a croak. ‘He’s never mentioned it.’
‘He never does. He’s far too kind.’ Chloe looked away from her, staring blankly into the middle distance as the crowds of shoppers poured around them. ‘It was really decent of him to let me live with him after Mum left.’
‘Hold on a minute.’ Lara lifted a hand to slow the conversation and then turned to glare at a woman who bashed into them. ‘Excuse me!’
‘It’s not a good place to stand, love,’ the woman returned, and Lara grabbed Chloe’s arm.
‘She’s right. We can’t have a proper conversation with the entire world tramping over us as they do their Christmas shopping. And, if they play that Rudolph song again, I’m going to hang myself from the nearest piece of tinsel. Come on. You and I are going to have a proper talk.’ She dragged Chloe back to the car park and drove her home. ‘Your dad and Aggie are eating ice cream so we can have five minutes by ourselves. I’ll make my special hot chocolate and we’ll take it up to your bedroom.’
Once home, she made them both a drink and Chloe helped her carry the mugs up to her bedroom.
Lara slipped off her shoes and curled up on the bed. ‘Right. Tell me everything. And don’t hold anything back. It seems to me that you’ve got far too much bottled up inside you.’
Chloe sat down next to her, her hands round her mug of chocolate. ‘I don’t usually talk about it to anyone.’
‘I’m not just anyone and you’re going to talk about it with me. Go.’
Chloe hesitated. ‘I was four and a half when Dad met my mum.’
‘What happened to your real father?’
‘He didn’t want children.’ Chloe poked the spoon into her hot chocolate. ‘So I guess I spoiled that relationship for her.’
Lara’s eyes narrowed. ‘How do you know he didn’t want children?’
‘Well, he isn’t exactly around, is he?’ Chloe sighed. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to be snappy.’
‘Don’t apologise. You finally sounded like a moody teenager. It’s a relief to hear it.’
‘You want me to be moody?’
‘No,’Lara said softly. ‘I want you to be yourself.’
Chloe stared at her and her eyes filled. ‘I can’t.’
‘Oh, sweetheart…’ Lara leaned forward and removed the mug of chocolate from Chloe’s fingers. She put it on the bedside table and stretched out her arms. ‘Give me a hug.’
Chloe hesitated and then slid into her arms and Lara felt the child’s skinny body tremble with repressed emotion. ‘I’m so scared, Lara.’ She burst into tears and Lara tightened her grip.
She let her cry for a few minutes and then tried to unwrap herself from Chloe’s grasp so that she could get a better look at her. ‘Chloe—look at me. You have to talk to me so that I can help. I just don’t know what’s going on here. What are you scared of?’
Chloe was sobbing so hard that her response was unintelligible but Lara thought it sounded like, ‘Isn’t it obvious?’
‘Obvious? No. Not to me.’ Seriously concerned, Lara kept one arm round the child and reached across to the bedside table so that she could grab a tissue from the box. ‘Here. Blow.’
Chloe peeled herself away from Lara’s neck and took the tissue. ‘I’m afraid he doesn’t… really…want…me.’ Her voice juddered and she stopped talking and blew her nose hard.
‘Who doesn’t want you? You have to stop crying, Chloe. You’ll give yourself a horrible headache.’
‘My dad.’ Chloe’s voice was clogged with tears. ‘Because he isn’t really my dad, is he? I mean…’ Just saying the words was enough to set her off sobbing again. ‘My mum just walked out. Just like that. And left me here. And that’s fine because, to be honest, if she’d given me a choice I would have chosen to live with my dad any day because he always has time for me and she never did.’ She scrubbed the heel of her hand across her cheek and drew in a shuddering breath. ‘But he probably wouldn’t have chosen to keep me.’