"Everyone loves sausages and beans, Nanna," he said. He smiled at Ruby. "You alright, Rubes? Nothing to worry about, don't look so scared."
She nodded. "You really staying for dinner, Dad?"
He took his jacket off, dumped it on the back of the armchair. He sat down, made himself comfortable, like he'd always been there. "Wouldn't miss sausages and beans, Rubes. Not with you and Mia and Nanna." He looked at me. "Or your mum. Wouldn't turn down an invite like that for the world."
My poor nerves, they were shot. Up and down and up again. The Darren Trent effect.
"Where's Mia?" I said. "Skype?"
Ruby shook her head. "Mia's sad."
"She doesn't need to be sad now," Darren said. "Tyler Dean's not going to be bothering her again, that's a sure fact."
I stepped into the hallway, called up the stairs. "Mia? You alright up there? Your dad's staying for dinner."
No reply. I leaned over the bannister. Her bedroom door was shut.
"I'll go up," I said. "Make sure she's ok."
Darren got to his feet, joined me in the hallway. He watched me as I climbed the stairs, his eyes burning my back as I tapped Mia's door. "Mia? Can I come in?"
No reply.
I eased the door handle down. "I'm coming in, love, ready or not."
My heart smashed like glass, my little girl on her bed, crying into Mr Fluff like the world was ending. I rushed to her side, pulled her close. "It's over now," I said. "Your dad's sorted it, that little shit won't be bothering you again, Mia, I promise. I'm so sorry, I really thought Mrs Webber had sorted this out." I heard footsteps on the landing, the door creak open. I turned to find Darren there, face ashen as he took in the scene. "It's sorted now, isn't it, Darren? No more Tyler Dean, he won't say a word."
"It's done, Mia," he said. "I'll pick you up in the morning, take you to the bus stop myself, see what Tyler Dean's got to say for himself then, eh?"
Mia shook her head, but she couldn't speak. Her words were just sobs, I could have cried myself.
"Don't argue … don't argue over me!" she cried. "Please don't! I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything! I shouldn't have said anything about Tyler! Just please don't be mad … "
"Hey," Darren said, he came over, knelt at the side of the bed. "Nobody's arguing, Mia. You've got nothing to be sorry for."
"I heard you … " she cried. "Arguing over me … and I'm sorry! Please don't be angry with each other! Please don't!"
"We're not," I said. "It was just a conversation, Mia, sometimes people get a bit upset, it doesn't mean they can't sort it out, does it, Darren?"
I met his eyes, willed him to say something, anything.
His answer melted my shattered heart.
"You know what I'm like, Mia. My mouth runs away with me sometimes. Bit of a hot head." He squeezed her arm. "I can be a bit of a prick, getting butt-hurt all over the place. You can forgive your dad for being a bit of an idiot, can't you? I hope you can, I was looking forward to having sausages and beans with you."
I felt the tears coming. I smiled at him, and he smiled back, but there was such pain there, such pain in all of us.
Mia let go of Mr Fluff and rolled over, faced her dad with puffy eyes. "Don't go, Dad, I won't make you argue again, not if you stay, not ever again. Not like last time." Her face crumpled. "Not like when I was little, I'm big now, I can be better, I won't make you argue ever again, I promise!"
My jaw dropped and so did his. We stared at each other, sharing that one moment of horrified parenthood.
"What are you talking about?" I said. "We never argued over you, Mia, never. You never made us argue, not once."
"You did!" she said. "You'd argue and Dad would leave and then you'd cry, Mum. You'd cry and pretend that you weren't!"
I stared in disbelief. I thought she was too young to remember this, too young to have seen it.
Guilt hit hard. It made me feel sick.
"It was me!" she said. "I know it was me! And I won't do it again, I promise! I promise! Just stay! Just stay with us, Dad!"
Darren put his hands on her cheeks, brushed her tears away. My heart lurched.
He stared her straight in the eye. "Not once," he said. "Not once that we argued was it ever ever your fault, Mia, I promise you that. It was mine. All mine."
"And mine," I said. "It was our fault, me and your dad's. Not yours, not ever yours." I looked at Darren then back at my poor daughter. She looked so young again. Too young for this, too young for any of this. "Never ever think that was your fault, it wasn't. None of it was your fault."
She took a horrible gulpy breath. Then she nodded.
Darren's voice was thick when he next spoke. "I'm your dad, Mia. I'll never leave you, no matter what happens, no matter how much me and your mum argue. No matter how butt-hurt I get, no matter how much of an idiot I am, I'll never leave. I'll always be right here, just down the road, whenever you need me. That's a promise, alright?"
I let out a breath as she smiled. She held out a finger, Ruby style. "Pinky promise?"
"Pinky promise," he said and linked her finger.
I pulled her up and held her tight, her arms around my waist, her head on my shoulder. I rocked her like she was little again, too little to be embarrassed by her mother. My eyes were closed when the bed dipped next to us, my heart skipped a beat as I felt his arms around me, around both of us. His head pressed to mine as he kissed Mia's hair, and I wished he'd never leave, not ever again.
Another creak of the door, and there was Ruby.
He beckoned her over. "Come on, Rubes, group hug, room for another small one."
She smiled her brightest smile, and came over, flung her arms around all three of us, and there we stayed, four broken people who hadn't realised they were broken, not until they were put back together again.
I hugged Ruby and Mia, and Darren hugged all of us.
I felt safer than I'd felt in years. More complete than I'd felt in years.
"I'd better get the sausages on," I said, before they saw me crying.
I sat at the kitchen table, the same one Nanna had had since forever, laughing with the girls and making Nanna giggle so hard she gave herself hiccups, but inside I was fucking dying.
The thought of walking out that front door again was more than I could bear. The thought of driving home to the flat without the girls, without Jodie, without Nanna. Alone. I was so alone.
I'd never felt grief like it, so close and yet so fucking far.
Jodie's foot touched mine under the table, and I know she was feeling it too. I could see it behind her smile, behind the way she dished up dinner and cut up Ruby's sausages and acted like everything was normal.
I thought of all the things I wanted to say. Thought about dropping my knife and fork and taking Jodie's hand and begging her to take me back, take me home. Begging for another chance, a proper chance. Begging for another shot to stay with her rather than hit the pub in a foul temper. Begging for another shot to hold her tight as I watched the TV in dirty clothes, knackered from a long day at the garage.
As usual, I said fucking nothing, just ate my dinner and made sure the girls kept smiling.
I helped Jodie clear the plates. We didn't speak much, but she passed me plates to dry with the kind of lingering glances that made me fall in love with her all over again, just like the very first time. Fall in love with the girl with the dark red bob, asking me for a cigarette every morning as she waited for the school bus. The girl whose laugh made my heart beat so fucking fast as I walked past her on the way to work.
The girl who'd asked for my name and told me hers.
"I'm Jodie," she'd said. "Thought you might want to know the name of the person robbing you of cigarettes every morning."
"No bother," I'd said. "I'm Trent." I'd caught myself. "Darren. Darren Trent." I'd pointed down the hill. "I'm training, fixing up cars. Just down there."
She'd looked me up and down, like she needed to. I was wearing fucking overalls streaked with oil. She giggled, and I still remember how that sounded. "Kinda gathered," she said. "It's really nice to meet you, Darren Trent."
"I'll be seeing you, Jodie," I'd said.
And I did see her. Every fucking day from that point onwards. Slowly but surely, bit by bit we got to know each other.
I stopped seeing her at the bus stop and just started seeing her. I'd talk to her, laugh with her, walk along the river with her.