Be My Baby

She pulled on the old-fashioned doorbell and counted eight seconds before a man answered the door. His dark hair was slightly curly and he was almost clean shaven, with dark eyes and a warm smile. There were hints of grey in his hair, and the sleeves of his expensive white shirt were rolled up haphazardly. He looked effortlessly rich, and relaxed.

‘You must be Esme’s mum,’ he smiled, standing back from the door, ‘come on in, I’m Max, obviously.’

‘Obviously. Mollie.’ She held out a hand and he looked at her, incredulous, before taking it and shaking smoothly. ‘Hope Esme wasn’t any trouble.’

‘I doubt she’s capable of trouble. All I can tell is they’ve been practising dance routines for hours, and ate dinner before running off again. She’s a very healthy eater, she said that’s your influence.’

‘I’m setting up a healthy eating programme for kids,’ Mollie shrugged, about to explain about the news segment the next day.

Max frowned, ‘And how is it different to anything else that’s already out there? What’s your angle?’

Mollie bit her lip, ‘Um, I guess it’s not, except that I’m adapting dishes to make them healthy, so that kids can still have chocolate brownies, they’re just made with black beans instead.’

‘Ah, okay, so a hippie-dippie “make it with quinoa” approach,’ Max turned his back to her, ‘Liv, Esme’s mum is here.’

‘What is everyone’s problem with quinoa?’ Mollie mumbled to herself, waiting for her daughter to thunder down the stairs and leave this awful place with its cream carpet and the blue Persian cat staring at her from the windowsill.

‘And the problem with quinoa is more about how it’s causing farmers to starve in Bolivia, rather than any issues with taste or texture,’ Max answered smoothly, his lip quirking. Mollie considered the man, who was clearly ten years older than her, and spoke with an authority that suggested he was either a professor or an arsehole.

‘And what do you do?’ she asked in that way people do when they’re looking for a reason to judge you.

‘Finance.’

‘Of course,’ Mollie said simply, then called out, ‘Esme, I’m waiting here sweetheart!’

A small dark-haired head appeared at the top of the bannister, the sort of girl who would have bullied Mollie at school. She had poker straight hair and a perfect headband, wearing a t-shirt that said ‘Glamorous’ across the front. She smiled serenely.

‘Daddy, Esme and I are just tidying up my toys – perhaps Esme’s mummy would like a glass of wine while she’s waiting?’

She disappeared upstairs again to the sound of childish giggles, and Mollie was sure they were suddenly being watched.

Max quirked an eyebrow, ‘The kid’s got a point. Red or white?’

‘Sorry, I’ve arranged to go running with a friend, so I need to get Esme home,’ Mollie said, calling up the stairs, ‘Esme, I’m running with Evie this evening, please get your things together now.’

‘Oh good, you’re actually working out, I thought you might just be one of those mums who wears yoga pants everywhere, even though it’s clear they never actually work out.’

Oh god, thought Mollie, so my business idea’s unoriginal and I look like I don’t work out. Is there one man who doesn’t want to stamp all over me this week?

‘Yes, I actually run.’

The silence stretched out between them as Esme came down the stairs grumbling, letting her backpack fall from each step with a thump.

‘Pick up your bag Ez, and say thank you to Olivia’s father.’

Esme glared at her, ‘I was going to say thank you anyway. Now it looks like I wasn’t going to, and I’m rude. Thanks!’

Max intervened, ‘I would never think you were rude Esme, thanks so much for joining us today, it was a pleasure to have you. Come around again any time you like.’

Esme turned to her mother, nose held in the air, as if to say ‘see?’ but turned back to Max with a huge smile, ‘Thank you for having me. Dinner was lovely.’

Max nodded and Olivia waved from the stairs.

‘Lovely to meet you Mollie. Rain check on that glass of wine,’ Max nodded, that assurance the rich have evident on his face.

‘Definitely,’ Mollie smiled as the door closed behind them, ‘on the tenth of never!’

They walked silently for a few moments, Esme walking faster than necessary before Mollie stopped her.

‘Hey, lady, what’s with the attitude?’

Esme whirled round, ‘Why do you have to ruin everything?!’

‘I’m sorry your play date had to end early, you know I’ve got a very important morning tomorrow, I thought you were happy for me!’

‘Not about that!’ Esme shook her head, ‘Why did you have to turn up wearing that? And you’ve got flour on your nose!’

Mollie paused, ‘So I embarrassed you in front of your new friend and her dad. Well I’m sorry about that.’

Esme shot her a fierce look, like she was being dim on purpose, ‘You were supposed to have some wine with Olivia’s dad. And you were supposed to turn up looking all pretty like you always do when you pick me up. And then maybe you and Olivia’s dad would go on a date.’ She crossed her arms and huffed, ‘But you ruined it.’

Mollie smiled at the little girl with glitter on her face, her light eyes darkening as she glared at her mother, arms crossed, pout at the ready.

‘Baby, that’s very sweet of you, to want to set me up...’ Mollie crouched down and swept some hair behind her daughter’s ear, ‘… but Olivia’s mum just left, do you think maybe he might need time to be sad about that?’

‘Olivia said it happened ages ago,’ Esme shrugged, ‘and this way we’ll stay good friends and he seems nice, her dad. I’m usually right about these things.’

‘You were right about Evie and Killian,’ Mollie acknowledged, ‘I’ll give you that one, kid, but not everything works out like that.’

‘But I’m right about Tyler and Celia too,’ Esme grinned wickedly, ‘I started a bet with Killian about whether they’ll kiss before Chelsea’s wedding.’

‘Tyler is, whilst being very nice, a little bit gangster, and Kit’s sister was head girl at her school. They’re friends, that’s all. And it’s not nice to bet on people,’ Mollie sighed deeply, worrying that her daughter might be right about Chelsea’s brother. He was hanging around a lot more these days, and Celia always seemed to mysteriously turn up to events at the gallery when he was around.

‘Look, Mum,’ Esme shook her head seriously, ‘you’re not very good at this stuff, you need to trust me with it. I can find you someone really nice. Olivia said it’s really nice having a dad, someone to take you places and protect you and tell you not to go out wearing that... she said I should have one, and she doesn’t mind sharing hers. That’s nice.’

Mollie took a deep breath and tried to count to five, ‘Yes, but are you happy to share me? So I’d have to do things with Olivia, just her and me.’

‘No you wouldn’t – she already has a mum!’ Esme’s frown was deep set, and she suddenly didn’t like the idea any more. Mollie took her hand and led her over to the bench by the bus stop, sitting down side-by-side as the light started to soften into darkness.

‘Sweets, why were you really playing with Olivia today? I know you don’t like dance routines and girly stuff. What’s going on?’

Esme pressed her lips together and pulled on the sleeves of her grey hoodie, ‘She’s the only other kid who has one parent.’

‘You’re kidding,’ Mollie frowned, ‘Seriously? How is that possible?’

‘Or the only other one who admits it. Some of the other kids were asking where my dad was because they were talking about inviting their dads to some school thing. And when I said I didn’t have one, they asked about my stepdad. And when I said I didn’t have one of those they said... they said I must be horrible and that’s why I don’t have a daddy.’

Mollie fought the urge to bundle her daughter up into her arms and start ranting about what horrible tossers all those kids were, but she held back, watching as her daughter took deep breaths and set her jaw, not allowing herself to cry.