Of course, that beauty was expensive to maintain – his bank account was hammered regularly by hairdressers, spa appointments, make-up purchases and God knows what else in order to keep her looking a million pounds, but she was worth it.
He looked to his right where Maddie was sitting gazing at Jemima in her highchair. His heart fell then, but only because he still loved her – or at least the girl she was before everything. The girl that had his back, fought his corner, laughed at his jokes. He remembered the countless evenings drinking red wine and discussing politics and socioeconomics, or curling up on the couch and watching films that made them laugh or cry. All things he didn’t do with Gemma. He and Maddie had been inseparable for so long. He looked at her now with the fine lines on her face and the flecks of grey in her hair. The last few years had aged her, but ultimately she was still Maddie – another woman he couldn’t say no to. To be perfectly honest, Maddie was a much nicer, warmer and kinder person than Gemma, who had a coldness to her and a selfishness. The Maddie of old had wanted to help people, always saw the best in them, often misplaced, and yet she had never seemed to catch a break herself.
He hoped that the old Maddie was still in there, that the last few years hadn’t changed her irreversibly. There’d been some things that she’d done that had worried him; he hoped that was all behind them now.
Maddie was pushing her food around her plate, a look of poorly disguised displeasure on her face. He could almost hear what she was thinking and wanted to laugh out loud. Gemma was a terrible cook and today was no different. She had wanted to do some vegetarian bake of sorts that involved kale and lentils, but he had convinced her to make a traditional roast, blaming it on Maddie being a meat-lover, but in actual fact he couldn’t face any more of her plant-based torture. He knew he had to get back into shape if he wanted to keep a woman like Gemma interested – God knew he was punching above his weight – but he couldn’t take much more of it. He gagged when he thought about soya milk and the flatulence from all the vegetables and lentils was getting embarrassing at the gym. He’d started sneaking out to buy takeaways at lunchtime and binning the evidence before he got home. If Gemma found out, she’d kill him, but his bloody nut allergy made it really difficult to find anything even vaguely nice to eat that didn’t include a deadly ingredient and he was starving all the time.
Then there was Jemima. She sat next to him in her highchair, playing the drums with her spoon and giggling. She was his entire world. For a while he’d thought he would never be a father. In fact, he had resigned himself to that fact. Of course, Maddie never gave up hope and that was what ultimately drove them apart. Maddie would’ve been enough for him, but he wasn’t enough for her.
When Gemma told him she was pregnant, his first thought was shock and fear. In fact, he threw up a little in his mouth. Then very quickly afterwards came the excitement, followed by fear again at having to tell Maddie. He vowed then to make sure she was involved in Jemima’s life. Ok, so it was a little weird to involve your ex in your daughter’s life, but he knew better than anyone how much Maddie had wanted a child and if this was the closest she would get, then he would make damn sure she was involved.
Of course, Gemma had not been keen, to say the least. But on this he wasn’t budging. He knew she was spiteful to Maddie when he wasn’t around, but he also knew that Maddie could give as much as she got if cornered. He hoped he would never have to pick sides between them because he didn’t honestly think he could.
But this, in front of him right now, was an embodiment of having your cake and eating it too.
He smiled again – the proverbial cat who got the cream – and picked up his cutlery to attack the piece of leather on his plate.
*
Maddie stared at the plate in front of her. The meat was overcooked, the Yorkshire puddings flat and rubbery, and the gravy lumpy, even after Gemma had run it through a sieve. Regardless, Greg was tucking into his plate of food like he hadn’t eaten in weeks. Looking at him now, eating was one thing he had definitely been doing. Gemma was right about the muffin top. It would seem all those lentils and avocados were not good for his waistline.
Jemima was sitting opposite Maddie, banging her spoon against the table of her highchair, little flecks of carrot flying off with every exuberant clank of metal on wood. Maddie noticed Gemma flinch every time the spoon made contact and Maddie wondered how long she could stand it before she took the spoon away.
‘Jemima, sweetie, too loud,’ Gemma said through gritted teeth and snatched it away.
Not very long at all, it would seem.
‘Are you still swimming, Maddie? Exercise is always so good for one’s mental health,’ Gemma said.
‘I haven’t been lately, but I must get back in the pool sometime soon.’
‘Not my thing, swimming – makes me think of verrucas and communal changing
