Today, though, when she had dipped her toe back in, in the most haphazard and impromptu manner, the water had felt surprisingly warm and welcoming. She had forgotten the pleasure she got from suggesting a solution that would help the client solve their problem. Today’s had hardly been a legal question, just a case of knowing the right person for the job; but she knew of Vanessa Quinn because of her years of experience, and Vanessa had been happy to take her call because of the mutually appreciative relationship that she had built with her over the years when their paths had crossed more regularly.

  It all served to remind Maggie of an important fact. Not only did she come alive when she was solving legal problems but also, and possibly more importantly, she was good at it. She should start looking for a job again in earnest, she thought. It wasn’t too late. She didn’t need a partnership position again – in fact she wasn’t even sure she wanted one. She was happy to be a safe pair of hands in a decent commercial property department somewhere with a strong list of clients who liked and trusted her. That would be perfect.

  As she scrolled down the legal recruitment sites, her mobile rang. She picked it up and looked at the screen. It was Tiger. A tiny frisson of excitement bubbled up on seeing his name, a subconscious response that it seemed would never leave her, and she answered the call. Tiger never rang. She wasn’t even sure he had a working phone a lot of the time; it seemed to be generally turned off or out of charge. Something must be wrong. Her mind leapt to Romany.

  ‘Tiger,’ she said. ‘Is everything okay?’

  ‘Yeah, yeah,’ he drawled. ‘Why wouldn’t it be?’

  There was no point Maggie explaining, but she relaxed a little. ‘So,’ she said instead, ‘what can I do for you?’

  ‘Strange thing,’ he said, ‘but you remember when we went out on Christmas Day?’

  Of course Maggie remembered, although she would have to admit that the tail end of the afternoon was a little bit hazy.

  ‘Yes,’ she said.

  ‘That chef bloke, Hope’s boyfriend.’

  ‘Daniel?’ supplied Maggie helpfully.

  ‘Yeah. Except that’s not it. That’s why it’s taken me so long to place him. Because he wasn’t called Daniel then, when I met him.’

  Maggie was lost. ‘Tiger, you’re not making much sense,’ she said. ‘Why don’t you start at the beginning?’

  ‘Right, yeah. So, I recognised that Daniel bloke, but I couldn’t think where I’d met him. It’s been driving me mad. I couldn’t get it out of my head because something about it felt important, but I just couldn’t place him. So, in the end I decided the only way I was going to remember was if I clapped eyes on him again. I reckoned that if I wasn’t three sheets to the wind, I’d do a better job of recognising him. So, I went back to the restaurant today, hung around a bit outside to see if he appeared. And when he did, it finally came to me. I’ve worked out who he is, but he’s changed his name. That’s what threw me before. When I met him he didn’t call himself Daniel. He was called Jax.’

  There was a pause as Maggie’s mind raced to join the dots.

  ‘Jax, as in Angie’s Jax?’ she asked.

  ‘The very same,’ he replied.

  ‘And so that means that this Daniel, now boyfriend of the divine Hope, is . . .’

  ‘Bingo!’ said Tiger. ‘Give the woman a banana!’

  ‘Shit!’ said Maggie.

  ‘Shit indeed,’ replied Tiger. ‘So, what should I do?’

  Maggie’s mind was making connections. She had never met Jax, but she had met Daniel before, at Hope’s party. She searched her mind to remember how Angie had reacted to seeing him, but found nothing. Had they been introduced? She thought not. Slowly the pieces fell into place. Daniel had arrived late, and they had worked out who he was because Hope had told them he was on his way. And then not long after that they had left the party.

  ‘Maggie?’ came Tiger’s voice down the line. ‘Are you still there?’

  ‘Sorry, yes. I’m just thinking it through,’ she said.

  ‘Do you think Ange knew?’ Tiger asked.

  ‘I think she must have done,’ replied Maggie. ‘We went to Hope’s birthday party and he was there. She didn’t say anything to me, but she must have recognised him. And that will be why . . .’ All the shakers were falling into place now and the lock clicked open, leaving the answers like treasure, golden and twinkling in Maggie’s mind. ‘That’s why she chose Hope to be one of Romany’s guardians.’

  ‘The one looking after relationships,’ interrupted Tiger, the triumph clear in his voice.

  ‘The sly old minx,’ replied Maggie with a wry smile.

  ‘Exactly! But what do we do now? Now that we’ve worked it out?’ asked Tiger. ‘Do we tell Romey that we know where her dad is?’

  And now Maggie remembered another day. A picnic in Whitby when Angie had insisted on having a rather forced conversation with Romany about her father. Had she done that in front of her so that she was aware of Romany’s views on the subject? That seemed a little far-fetched, but now, in light of what they had just worked out, perhaps it had all been part of a plan, although she wasn’t sure the timings worked exactly. She needed to think it all through more carefully. The point now was, what did Angie want her to do next? Romany had been very clear that she didn’t want to know who her father was. Did Angie disagree? Was she expecting the four of them to step in and create an introduction?

  ‘Maggie?’

  ‘Sorry, I was thinking. I think we need to tread very carefully. Romany once told me that she wasn’t interested in meeting her dad. I’ve got no reason to think that she’s changed her mind. And right now, she’s got enough on. It’s only a few months until her exams. Do you think we should keep it under our hats, for now at least?’

  Maggie could hear Tiger’s disappointment through the silence on the other end of the phone. He must have been hoping that she’d suggest a big, drastic reveal.

  ‘Maybe,’ he replied reluctantly. ‘Although I think she might be changing her mind on the dad thing.’

  ‘But perhaps,’ said Maggie, ‘we could talk to Hope and Daniel and see what they think.’

  Tiger sounded doubtful now. ‘I don’t know, Mags. Maybe we should just let nature take its course. As you say, the last thing Romey needs right now is another shock.’

  But Maggie was thinking aloud. ‘Daniel must have worked it out,’ she said. ‘Even if he didn’t find his way to York to be close to them in the first place, he must have assumed that Angie and Romany might still be living here. And if Hope told him about her role as Angie’s guardian then he would have made the connections. Another single mother called Angie with a daughter of the right age called Romany is way too much of a coincidence to be somebody else. And it’s such an Angie thing to have done, involving Hope.’ Maggie smiled to herself at the workings of Angie’s mind. God, she’d have loved having them all running round in circles like this.

  But then something else occurred to her and the smile slipped from her face. ‘We have to tread carefully here, Tiger,’ she said. ‘What if Daniel hasn’t told Hope who Romany is? That’s not our news to share. And who knows what might happen if we do?’

  51

  Romany was on the final straight. The finishing line was almost in sight and all she had to do was keep galloping until she crossed it. She dropped her textbook and rolled back on her bed and stared up at the ceiling. That was possibly the worst metaphor she had ever used. It sounded like something the head of sixth form would come out with in one of her uplifting assemblies and Romany swore to herself that she would never let the image cross her mind again.

  It did feel a lot like a race, though. This whole year had done. She had been running from one waymarker to the next, all the time getting closer to her goal, but without really having any time for anything else. Maybe that was no bad thing. If she stopped and thought for too long, she worried that she might go to pieces, and she simply didn’t have the time. The most important thing now was to get through the exams – she could fall apart as much as she liked once they were over.

  Elsewhere in the flat, she could hear Tiger pushing the vacuum cleaner around, the dull rumble a comfort of sorts, an indicator of a normal life continuing around her. When he had first started showing domestic tendencies, Romany had been astounded, and the first time she had spotted him with a duster and a tin of Mr Sheen in his hand she had laughed out loud.

  ‘Oh my God,’ she’d said through her snorts. ‘Look at you!’

  He had looked quite indignant. ‘Well, there’s no need for us to live like savages,’ he said. ‘And I reckoned it would take the pressure off you if I pulled my weight a bit more.’

  She had stopped laughing then, seeing that he was serious. It was actually quite sweet.

  ‘Thanks,’ she’d said, feeling a little ashamed.

  ‘That’s okay. When I’ve done this, I thought I’d give the windows a bit of a going-over. They’re looking a bit smeary when the sun shines on them.’

  And so she had left him to it, grateful that he seemed happy to help out. Since then, the house had been transformed. He had gradually worked his way through every room, cleaning, polishing and replacing things as he went. Romany hadn’t realised how grubby some of the soft furnishings had got until he washed the cushion covers and even threw a few things away, although he always checked an item for irreplaceable sentimental value before it went to the tip.

  Their food had gone through a similar transformation. When Tiger had first moved in, they had existed on fresh but simple food that was heated and then served. Boiled vegetables, grilled meat or fish (Tiger was no vegetarian and neither, she discovered, was she), the odd veggie pasta dish; all perfectly nutritious but requiring no skill, just the application of time. Now, though, their menu had been entirely revamped. They even had home-made sauces as Tiger became increasingly confident in the kitchen. He had become a veritable domestic god.

  So now, all that was required of her was to get the grades for Durham, and with so much support at home and school she really had no excuse.

  Her mobile pinged and she flung an arm out and retrieved it from the bedside table. A few messages had all landed at once: three from Laura asking her how she was getting on with a past paper that they had been set, and one from Hope. Romany sat up and opened the Hope one.

  Hi R. Shoot at Aysgarth Falls on Sat. Want to come? H x

  Romany was used to Hope’s abbreviated style of message and had got quite used to elucidating meaning from them. They were a contrast to Maggie’s fully grammatical ones. She had to think about this one for a moment, however. She supposed that it was a fashion shoot and not the gun kind. Hope ran some kind of swimwear business. Romany wasn’t sure entirely what kind, but she had been very impressed by the bikini that Hope had been wearing on their spa trip, and even more delighted when Hope had given her a bag of samples to keep. She had the nicest beachwear in the whole of York, although she had yet to wear any of it outside her bedroom.

  Aysgarth Falls she had heard of but had never been to. It was a set of waterfalls not that far away. And Saturday? Well, what would she be doing but revising? She could probably give herself a day off and it would be great to go and watch how a fashion shoot worked.

  She typed a reply. Would love to. Thanks. R x

  What did one wear to a fashion shoot? Romany and Laura agonised over it via FaceTime, Laura making suggestions from Romany’s meagre wardrobe and Romany rejecting them as too boring, too out there, too try-hard, too safe and eventually just plain ‘too’.

  ‘Come on, Romes,’ cajoled Laura. ‘You have to wear something. And honestly? I doubt anyone will even notice. They’ll be busy being shot, or whatever.’

  ‘It’s just that Hope’s so gorgeous,’ Romany complained. ‘It was bad enough being at the spa with her.’

  Laura rolled her eyes, exasperated. ‘Then don’t go,’ she said. ‘No one’s making you.’

  ‘No, but . . .’

  ‘Precisely. So just choose something!’

  In the end she had gone with a black and white dress with a sweetheart neckline and a ditsy floral print, and she borrowed Tiger’s denim jacket on the absolute, solemn promise that she wouldn’t let any of the supermodels steal it. He had been entirely straight-faced as he delivered this proviso and Romany had made an equally serious promise, her hand raised Boy Scout-style.

  Hope picked her up at the agreed time, which was earlier than Romany had seen for months. The back seat of the car was filled to the roof with cardboard boxes.

  ‘Stock,’ Hope said. ‘You can have a look through when we get there, if you like.’

  Romany did like, hopeful of more freebies. She settled back into her seat, ready to enjoy herself. They set off, driving through the silent streets as the sun began to rise.

  Hope peered up at the sky over the steering wheel. ‘I hope the light stays right. I haven’t got time to reshoot if we don’t get what we need today.’

  ‘Won’t the models be a bit cold?’ asked Romany, thinking of the last time she had dipped a toe in an English river.

  ‘They’re professionals,’ said Hope dismissively. ‘If they can’t hack it then they just won’t get booked next time.’

  This was something that Romany had noticed before. There was a steeliness to Hope that was missing from her other guardians. She was uncompromising, focused, determined. She made Maggie look like a teddy bear. Romany liked it, though, and found it inspiring, and she tried not to be intimidated by her no-nonsense approach. Hope had told her that she’d created her business from nothing after her modelling career had slowed down, and worked hard at making it a success. Romany didn’t know whether it was doing well or not, but she guessed that it probably was.

  They rarely talked about her mum. Romany didn’t mind; she wasn’t short of people to have those conversations with if she needed one. But Romany still had no idea why Hope was one of her guardians and Hope wasn’t the kind of person she felt she could ask. She was too prickly, and Romany worried that questioning her credentials might drive her away, and then she would never get to the bottom of the mystery.

  They arrived at a car park that was already full of very tall women wandering about dressed in robes and those reflective crinkly blankets you saw on hospital dramas. A couple of them were already made up, striking geometrical shapes picked out on their eyes in bright metallic colours with very dark lips in unnatural blues and greys. It made them look even colder, Romany thought.

  Hope shouted various questions and commands as she strode through the car park. Romany scampered after her feeling like a puppy, but happy just to be there and part of it. Who cared what her mother had in mind when Hope was as cool as this?

  It wasn’t far to the river. Romany had imagined tumbling cascades of water surrounded by a leafy glade, like something out of a shampoo commercial, but actually Aysgarth Falls appeared to be far more sedate. The water fell no more than a couple of feet, but it did fall three times in quick succession and the river was very wide and majestic. Romany, whilst initially disappointed, could see that the spot was dramatic in its own understated way.

  The photographer was already in the water in a pair of waders and a heavy padded jacket. By contrast, the poor models were standing barefoot in the icy water, wearing only bikinis and striking their poses as directed. Not one of them seemed to be complaining, but just looking at them made Romany shiver.

  Hope was busy and everyone else seemed to be very clear what their roles were, so Romany watched from the sidelines as shot after shot was set up and then captured. So much effort went into each image, and Romany thought she would never again be able to idly flick through a magazine without thinking about today.

  Hope had mentioned that she had brought a flask of tea and that Romany was welcome to share, so, feeling chilly, she retrieved it from one of the many bags and was just pouring some into the plastic lid when she heard a voice behind her.

  ‘You don’t want to be drinking that muck,’ it said. ‘Tea from a plastic cup! Yuk!’

  Romany turned and saw Hope’s boyfriend, the chef guy.

  ‘I can offer you a latte if you’d prefer,’ he said. ‘I love Hope dearly but she’s crap at outside catering.’

  He grinned, the skin around his eyes crinkling naturally as if it was totally used to smiling, but Romany could still remember how he had stared at her in the restaurant on Christmas Day and so was wary. He didn’t seem weird today though, just smiley, but still, she didn’t want to encourage him.

  She raised the plastic teacup. ‘I’m good with this, thanks,’ she said.

  ‘How’s the shoot going?’ he asked. ‘There’s no point me asking Hope. She won’t speak to me when she’s working.’

  ‘Okay, I think, but the poor models must be freezing!’

  Daniel nodded. ‘Yeah. All in a day’s work for them. You wouldn’t catch me standing up to my knees in cold water though.’

  ‘You prefer your hot kitchen, then?’ Romany asked.

  ‘I do these days,’ he said. ‘Although I’ve had my share of outdoor hardship in my time. I lived in a tree for six months once,’ he added, pulling a face that anticipated her scepticism.

  ‘Really?’ said Romany, turning to look at him properly. ‘My mum lived in a tree once too. She used to tell me how they moved from platform to platform without ever coming down, so they didn’t get arrested. Sounded totally mad. And freezing.’

  ‘Yeah, it was.’

  His face had closed down and Romany wondered whether he’d been embellishing the truth, assuming that she would be impressed by his tale and not realising that she would have a tree story of her own. She felt a bit guilty for having stolen his thunder.

  ‘So, how long have you had the restaurant?’ she asked, to make amends. ‘I think it’s really cool, by the way. I’ve been in a couple more times since Christmas.’

  His face lit up again. ‘I’ve been in York for around fifteen years,’ he said. ‘I worked for other people for a while. Then I did event catering. That was hard work. And then I bought the restaurant with a friend, a couple of years ago. It’s been a bit hairy at times, but things are going pretty well now. And how about you? Are you doing A levels? Hope said something about uni.’