In last week’s instalment we got to know more about the glamorous Bea and now Annie is to learn more about Reef and his son.
Now read on . . .
Noé sticks to me like glue from the second I arrive for lunch with him and Reef at their sprawling country house deep in the forest. Bea told me all about the house, said it was more of a mansion, or a small palace, especially if you took into account the acres of land surrounding it. She had looked up photographs of the house online and with a little more digging from a male friend in estate management, she’d found out the breathtakingly steep price tag that went with it. Not surprising since a version of my house could fit into Reef’s country pile a thousand times over, if not more. The fun Noé must have in here.
Reef called me during the week and had put Noé on the line. He told me they’d been doing lots of shopping, all for him. I’d imagined their shopping trip, Reef trying to get his son settled into his new part-time home by kitting out his wardrobe and buying enough toys and games to fill a room wall to wall and from floor to ceiling. I could see Noé cycling around the corridors, bashing into immaculately painted skirting boards and the whole house being redecorated after each bike ride. I wouldn’t mind a no expenses spared kind of life.
Noé wasn’t cycling indoors when I rang the doorbell. Reef had opened the door to a magnificent and highly polished hallway and Noé was on a sparkly hover board with enormous wheels. He’d stood balancing on it as they both grinned a warm welcome to me. I’d smiled back in my thick padded coat carrying a Sainsbury’s bag for life containing a box of my homemade cranberry cookies. Noé had rotated for several seconds before jumping off, the board whizzing across the wooden floorboards and into an open door. It had smacked into something with a soft thud in much the same way Noé had run into me, leaning his head into my middle and wrapping his arms around my hips. I’d kissed the curls on the top of his head and he’d taken my hand.
‘Noé said we should have pizza,’ Reef says.
‘Lovely,’ I say, remembering our meal in Birmingham. ‘Pizza is my favourite food.’
The kitchen is silver, pale green and white. It’s a large square with glass doors onto a concrete patio. The ceiling window reveals the white and grey of the sky, there is a hint of movement in the clouds, the rain of earlier has left speckles on the glass. Thankfully it has stopped raining. I’d driven through flooded roads. Wide potholes concealed by last night’s rain had caught me out when I thought they were just puddles and the wheels of my little car had taken a bit of a beating. Typical Herefordshire weather and typical pot holes. New ones appear straight after they get around to fixing the old ones.
On the island near the glass doors there are uncooked pizzas on baking sheets. Reef has been busy. There are at least three large pizzas waiting to go into the hot oven that warms the room with a comforting glow. The square dining table is laden with shiny cutlery, bowls of fresh salad and baskets of bread. A bunch of grapes sits in the middle of a silver platter, berries of all kinds surround it as do edible flowers and I start to suspect that Reef has had help here. The dinner plates are big and round with a pale yellow design swirling through them. There is juice in a jug, bottled water, wine glasses and tumblers.
‘You and Noé have been busy.’ I smile at Reef. Noé holds my hand tightly and it feels hot and tiny in mine.
‘We’re busted, aren’t we?’ says Reef. ‘Okay, so I had a caterer in but we did choose the toppings so I hope you like them.’
‘I’m sure I will.’
‘If you’re ready I can get a couple of these in the oven. Apparently they’ll need twelve to fifteen minutes each.’
‘Best to start with one,’ I say. ‘They’re enormous. Even I might struggle.’
Noé and I settle at the table and watch a clueless Reef trying to help a sizeable pizza with substantial toppings into the oven. Noé and I play a game of stacking hands on the table and he giggles with chalk white baby teeth, the bottom two incisors have made way for when his permanent ones come in. I move my hands faster and faster and he finds it hard to keep up, chuckling harder all the more.
‘Winner,’ I shout and he shouts, ‘Again!’ We continue for several minutes while Reef opens a bottle of white wine and fills our water glasses and a juice glass for Noé. When I can smell the pizza is ready I watch Reef looking at his phone while he darts around the kitchen in pursuit of something. Oven gloves, I suspect, but he has no clue where anything is. The gloves are dangling from the oven door and I laugh inwardly at what it must be like to be left alone in a house to cope for yourself when you’re obviously used to having someone else cook and clean for you since becoming a multi-millionaire.
Reef’s beginnings were not humble, as such. His father was management in a building society, now retired, and his mother still runs her own nutritionist practice. He has a married younger brother and they both attended the local high school where Reef achieved average grades before being approached by Aston Villa and encouraged to enter the football academy system. He took five GCSE’s while learning the skills that led to his playing centre forward for England for over fifteen years. All of these statistics were easy to obtain online, Reef didn’t talk much about his family or upbringing on our date and come to think about it, our conversations have been pretty shallow. I wonder how much I’ll discover beyond the muscles and the man bun. Both he and Noé are sporting those today.
Reef serves the pizza straight from the oven to the table.
‘Careful, it’s hot,’ he says to his son who sits up straight and nods before repeating the caution to me. Reef and I steal a grin between us because Noé sounded just like Reef.
I watch Reef struggle with a shiny new pizza cutter and desperately try to hold back from offering my services. In the end the temptation to intervene is too great. Noé is bewildered and Reef can’t figure out how to cut in a straight line.
‘Do you mind?’ I ask, standing.
‘Go for it,’ he says and hands me the clammy handle of the pizza cutter.
We eat while Noé tells me all about how his daddy has to find a tutor for him because it’s not holidays yet and he should be learning more things. A fact that has him screwing up his face because who wants to do school work when you have acres of land to explore on a hover board.
‘He’s always been home schooled,’ says Reef. ‘And I’ve got strict instructions to make sure that continues while Natalia is away.’
‘Well, it’s not long until the Christmas holiday and then you can play and have fun,’ I say to the little boy with tomato sauce on his chin. I wipe it with a serviette.
‘And then I have to go back to Mummy,’ he says with a sigh. ‘I don’t know where I’m going to live at Christmas.’
I say nothing but stare at Reef whose cheeks are turning pink.
‘Mummy has to decide.’ Reef smiles glumly and I can sense the tension that he must have in his relationship with Natalia.
‘Mummy’s boyfriend is American so maybe I have to go there.’
‘Don’t worry,’ I cheerily say. ‘Father Christmas knows where all the children are so wherever you are, his reindeer will fly there, too.’
Noé puts a well bitten piece of pizza on the table and rests a greasy hand on mine.
‘You know there’s no such thing as Father Christmas, Annie, don’t you?’
‘Oh I do, but I just didn’t know what … if …’
His eyes are full of pity as he tilts his head to the side.
‘It’s okay,’ I tell him. ‘I do know, I just forgot for a moment. Sorry.’
‘Natalia didn’t want to fill his head with fantasy and make believe,’ Reef says looking down at the pizza crust he holds and it reminds me of big frowning lips. ‘I don’t know.’ He shrugs. ‘Children can just be children can’t they?’ He’s not directing this at me particularly but a dark shadow veils his face. I don’t suppose the Tooth Fairy visited Noé when he lost two of his milk teeth either but he seems oblivious to it all as he reaches across the table and grabs for his juice glass with oily hands. The glass slips through his fingers and I leap up to save it from tipping over completely. There’s juice on the table and I quickly mop this up with one of the fancy serviettes.
‘Sorry,’ says Noé. ‘Sorry.’ And his little face collapses inwards as if he’s about to cry.
‘You don’t have to be sorry.’ I sit back down and touch his shoulder. ‘I can get you another glass and pour you some more if you’d like.’
He pulls his bottom lip over his top one and nods. His eyes aren’t glassy anymore, his sweetheart shaped lips bend into a grin.
‘And is it okay if I don’t have to eat salad, too?’ he asks me with wide eyes. I look at Reef.
‘Mummy says you have to have veggies or salad with every meal, son.’ Reef winks at him. ‘But this is a special one with Annie here so you can skip it this time.’
Noé turns his large brown eyes to me.
‘I think I’d better have a cucumber slice in case she finds out. Mummy doesn’t like daddy’s girlfriends and I don’t want her to be angry at you.’
I reach over to a salad bowl, pick out a thin cucumber slice and hand it to him.
‘There you go. Now we can finish our pizza.’
Noé runs happily along the grass after lunch, the only one of us dressed appropriately for a dank and miserable November afternoon in a bright blue padded jacket. Reef and I amble behind him along one of the many paths in the vast lawns that immediately surround the house. At the back of the house is a covered swimming pool. The pool house is partially surrounded by tumbling hedges and trees that grow tall and close. Cameras in drones aren’t likely to get much of a view which might be the point. I wonder if Reef has security guards who might be taking the afternoon off because I’m here. The grounds are covered in clipped grass that goes on for miles in either direction. Not far from the house I see a pond and possibly a summer house beyond it. Apart from the trees close by there is a dense wood that maps the boundary of Reef’s estate. He must have staff. Ground staff, a team of maintenance people and a housekeeper at the very least. I should be keeping every detail of this visit in my mind because Bea will quiz me about everything but the reality is that I’m so taken with little Noé that all I do is focus on him. A feeling of warmth and joy swells my heart as I watch him and Reef playing with a remote operated plane which they drop in favour of a football lying on the grass. Reef weaves around his son’s legs, dribbling the ball before grabbing Noé up and tumbling on the wet grass with him. I’m sure Natalia would have something to say about this. Noé doesn’t care that his jacket is growing damp, he laughs hysterically and calls out to me.
‘Save me, Annie!’
Reef sits up and looks directly into my eyes as I stoop beside them.
‘Well?’ Reef’s voice has a huskiness that make me blush. ‘You like to be tickled?’
Before I can say anything, Noé jumps on top of me and I roll over onto my back. His fingers find my neck, my most ticklish spot and I cry with laughter. Reef sits on the grass beside me and places a hand on my waist. His eyes are a deep well of emotions, though I find it hard to read them all there’s tenderness and admiration in his eyes. Noé’s spiky little fingers tickling my neck distract me and I look away from Reef. I grab Noé and roll him on to his back and tickle him as enthusiastically. His little body convulses with fits of laughter. When an uncontrollable rush of coughing erupts from him I stop, my heart fast and out of rhythm as I pray I haven’t brought on a fit or something. A medical condition Reef failed to mention to me. The grass is very wet.
‘Come here you.’ Reef brings his son to sit on his knee. ‘Slow it down, just breathe, okay?’
Noé nods and sucks in air in a practised way. The coughs and splutters slow and subside completely.
‘You okay, son?’ Reef leans his face close to Noé and I frame this image in my mind. It’s the perfect pose for a painting or a quick sketch if only I’d had my charcoals with me. I don’t suppose it’s a good time to ask if they would ever sit for me and I haven’t told Reef about my art or the fact that I’m already using little Noé as the subject for my next piece.
‘Is that asthma?’ I ask. ‘Are you all right now?’
Noé leaps onto my lap and presses his face in my neck so that he’s buried in my hair.
‘He had it as a baby and grew out of it but he has a few of these coughing fits now and again,’ Reef tells me. ‘He doesn’t need an inhaler but he shouldn’t get too carried away.’
I bite my lip.
‘It’s all right, Annie,’ Reef says, gently. ‘You weren’t to know and look at him, he’s perfectly fine.’
‘It is quite cold,’ I say, still worried enough to want to call out a paediatrician for a second opinion. ‘Maybe we should head indoors and get warm. I-er, did make some cookies and maybe –’
I can’t finish the sentence as Noé has burrowed his way out of my hair, his arms around my neck and his beautiful face so close to mine. His smile says, ‘bring on the cookies’ so I glance at Reef to check it’s all right.
‘Cookies?’ says Reef. ‘What do you say, bud?’
‘Yes, please.’ The missing teeth in Noé’s smile only make him that much more adorable and I give him a squeeze.
‘Let’s go then.’
We walk back to the house.
‘We probably all need a change of clothes,’ says Reef.
I look down at the wet patches on my knees, feel the damp and dew on my seat, my hair and my jumper. I help Noé out of his jacket and Reef leads the way upstairs. Noé’s teeth chatter as he bounces up the stairs beside me holding the banister and my hand.
‘Go on, big man, you change your trousers and I’ll find something for Annie to wear.’
In his bedroom, an enormous room with a king sized bed and a mint and mahogany colour scheme, Reef pulls off his wet sweater and throws it on the bed. He has a skin tight top on underneath. He pulls open a draw and hands me a charcoal grey sweat top and bottoms.
‘These will probably be enormous on you but you can roll up the sleeves.’ He shrugs and goes to pull out a pair of navy joggers for himself and leaves the room. ‘I’ll see what the boy is up to and meet you downstairs.’
Once I’ve changed, I look into the mirrored doors of the tall, wide wardrobe and I’m transported back by in time. Annie, the kid in her too big hand me downs, messy, wild girl hair. Twerpy Annie the Charity Shop Girl. I roll the cuffs of the jogging bottoms up several times so that they reach my ankles and look a bit like harem pants and fold the sweat top cuffs up to my wrists. I wonder if Reef had known childhood Annie he’d have teased me as much as the other children? I try to flatten my hair. Reef has seen me with mad hair, a yellow scrunchy and a crumpled dress and yet he still seems keen. It must mean he’s serious about wanting me in his life. Introducing me to Noé so early on has to be a sign that he sees something other than looks in me. Maybe he’s fed up with the glamorous women, maybe this is going somewhere.
Downstairs I’m grateful for the underfloor heating. Noé skids towards me in his socks on the kitchen floor, shouting my name before he drags me over to the Sainsbury’s bag with the cookies.
‘You look so cute in that.’ Reef’s smile is genuine. He walks up to me and strokes my hair before kissing my forehead.
From the table in the hallway I hear Reef’s phone vibrating and he disappears. Between us, Noé and I arrange cookies onto a plate. I push the uneaten pizza to one side and I pour him some milk. I can hear Reef in the background asking whoever he’s speaking to if they’re bloody joking. While Noé sits swinging his legs at the dining table and taking alternating bites from the cookies he holds in each hand, I brew some coffee and wait for Reef to return.
‘Not too many of those,’ Reef says to Noé when he comes back to the kitchen with a red face. ‘Ah coffee, brilliant.’
‘Everything okay?’ I ask as I place mugs of coffee onto the table.
Reef steals a brief look in his son’s direction. Noé is oblivious to the tension Reef emits and the look of anger in his eyes, I’m ashamed to say, only makes him more sexy.
‘That documentary I did in Birmingham, they need some over dubbing and to re-shoot one of the scenes. They want me to come now. That was Jack on the phone.’
‘But it’s Sunday.’
‘They have a deadline for final edits. I tried to tell him I was, that we were… plus I’ve got Noé.’ Noé’s broad grin when he hears his name is full of delight and cookie dough.
‘I could stay and look after him.’ I can’t stop the urge to want to help. Reef looks so lost and it occurs to me that not only does Natalia have to leave her son for her work, so does Reef and my heart breaks for Noé. If he was mine I wouldn’t leave him for a second but I’m not a celebrity mum, or any kind of mum, so who am I to judge? ‘I’d be happy to.’
‘You sure? I mean I could take him with but somehow I think he’d rather hang out with you.’ Reef leans forward, his elbows on the table, the bite of anger completely vanished now. ‘Just like I do. We need more of this.’
The temptation to touch his face is too much but out of the side of my eye I see Noé reaching for another cookie and I know Natalia will not approve. Even two might have been over the daily recommended dose.
‘Not so fast,’ I say smiling at him. ‘Let’s stick to two for now and maybe we can find something to do while Daddy has to go out for a few hours.’
Noé and I watch Reef leave the house with a suit bag and a holdall and from the window in the lounge we watch him slowly drive away in his Mercedes.
Lunch evolves into a kitchen tidying party. Later, when Reef still isn’t back we make sandwiches and watch cartoons on an enormous screen in the TV room. When Noé can no longer sit still we start an indoor game of chase and then hide and seek. Now I can’t find Noé in any of the many large rooms in the house, either upstairs or downstairs. I start looking for secret passages in the library and the games room. As I call his name I’m practically in tears. Try as I might my self control is spiralling. Where is he? Has he gone outside, hiding in the vast grounds. It’s already dark. Just before I burst into tears and call Reef to tell him that I’ve managed to lose his son, I notice a little socked foot poking out from behind the weighty curtains in the formal dining room. I pull the curtain aside and see Noé curled up like a contended, sleeping kitten. He lets out a blissful yawn as his thumb slips out of his mouth.
I carry him up to his bedroom, lay him on top of his blankets and curl up beside him, sniffing his coconut milk hair, my arm across his tiny body. I feel myself easing into sleep and, as with every night, I hope this is the night I will sleep until a reasonable time in the morning.
It’s late, almost midnight when I hear my mobile vibrating and ringing from a place too far for me to reach. Where is my phone and is this a dream? Something soft stirs beside me and whispers my name.
‘Annie? Is something ringing?’
‘It’s my phone. It must be Daddy.’
Noé follows me, eyes squinting in the half light as we trot out onto the landing and the phone stops ringing. With Noé as my shadow I pad down the stairs and feel for my phone in my coat pocket. There are a couple of missed calls from Reef and I return his call immediately.
‘Sorry, it’s late,’ he breathes and sounds as if he’s out in the open. There are voices around him. I hear a car door close and an engine start up.
‘You driving home now?’ I ask.
He sucks in air and lowers his voice.
‘It’s just that Jack has set up this meeting. Arranged it because he’d forgotten I had Noé, the idiot. I did tell him I can’t do anything until I sort out a sitter or something. So, anyway one of the directors at Birmingham City collared Jack, wants a sit down to discuss my decision about the manager’s job. The owners are taking me to breakfast. Jack told them I would be here in the city. A bit sneaky of him but they need a decision.’
‘What will you say?’ I don’t have to be a football aficionado to know it would be a brilliant career move for him. A chance to plant some roots and the possibility of making history by turning the whole club around and getting back into the Premier League. The owners would probably up their offer because they really want Reef.
‘I seriously don’t know. I love the idea and it’s a great time in my life to do something like this.’ He lowers his voice even more. ‘But to be honest, all I really want is to see you, see where this goes. And, of course, the job has to fit in with Noé and what his mum has planned. Is he okay? Sleeping?’
‘He’s right here. Can you tell him you won’t be back tonight?’
I hand Noé the phone and it pains me to see his hopeful expression and the way it falls when he realises what’s happening. Up to that point he’d made himself giddy reaching up to speak to his Daddy. I can hear Reef sounding bright and cheerful on the other end and saying something about way past bedtime. Noé hands me back the phone with doleful, puppy dog eyes.
‘Again,’ Reef says to me, ‘I’m so sorry to do this to you.’
‘We’ll be just fine. I’ll see you after the meeting.’
As I hang up I visualise the bookings in my work calendar. I have at least three clients in the morning and I have no idea what time to expect Reef the next day. I look down at little Noé.
‘Is he coming back, Annie? Because they always go and leave me.’
I crouch in front of him.
‘Of course he will, Noé. We should get you into your pyjamas shouldn’t we?’
The early morning hours, while it’s still dark outside have me cradled into the tranquillity of their arms but sleep evades me. My mind won’t allow these arms to lull me to sleep. I lay on top of the duvet in one of the guest bedrooms with the lamp on. The house rests peacefully in the depths of the countryside under a black sky where the occasional star sparks and dims and planets, unknown to me, blink momentarily. I see them all. I just can’t sleep. Then, from somewhere in the house, I hear a noise that makes my heart stop for a second. It can’t be Reef. I steel myself to leave the room, looking for something heavy to throw at whoever is running around the house, opening and closing doors.
I peer over the balcony down to the ground floor to see Noé darting out of the television room and into the kitchen. There are one or two lights on downstairs but most of the rooms are in darkness which makes me think he might be sleep walking. Or sleep running. I run down the stairs quietly.
‘Noé,’ I whisper just before he heads to the front door. ‘What are you doing?’
He looks wild and wired, his curls bubbling around his tearful face.
‘Is Daddy coming soon?’
It’s as though the whole conversation about Reef being here the next day hadn’t happened. He must have forgotten since falling asleep after our crackers and hot chocolate supper.
The poor child, he has probably run the whole length, breath and depth of the house, looking for his dad and was on his way to look for him outside.
‘Come here,’ I say kneeling in front of him. ‘Remember, Daddy has a meeting to go to and he’ll come home after. It’s not that long to wait so let’s try to sleep. When it’s light out I want to have a go on your hover board because I think I could be pretty good on it. If not, could you teach me?’
He nods deeply and allows me to take his hand and lead him up to his bed. I do what Mum does to help me sleep. I sing to Noé. My voice isn’t as good as Mum’s but I remember the words to Dream a Little Dream of Me and then I Only Have Eyes for You until he finally drops off to sleep.
Noé sleeps peacefully as I lie, peacefully, beside him. I realise I know more about this little boy than the father I’m supposed to be dating.