Waiting for Grace by Hayley Oakes Page A

were fuming.” I smiled.
    “And you were awestruck at the city.” I looked to my hands. “That was a great summer.” He sighed.
    “Definitely,” I agreed.
    “So we’re going to Bethnal Green?” he asked.
    “Yep.” I smiled, glancing out the window again.
    “Are you nervous or something?” he asked.
    “Something,” I sighed. “I just want everything to go well. Devon is so excited about having a daddy.”
    “She is?” he asked, grinning.
    “Yes, and I just want it to be everything for her and I hope …”
    “You hope I don’t fuck it up,” he sighed. I didn’t respond. “I won’t,” he said, placing his hand on mine. “I won’t freak out, I just want to meet her, be her dad, okay?”
    “But we’re so different now.” I let my eyes roam around his black, leather interior with its swish gadgets. “I can’t remember how we ever went together.”
    “I can.” He squeezed my hand. “Don’t worry, after tonight it’ll be like the three of us have never been apart.”
    “You think so?” I asked.
    “I know so.” My heart sped up as his hand remained on mine. Then his mobile phone rang on his hands free stand on the dashboard. I looked away so as to not invade his privacy. He moved his hand from mine and pressed it off, but didn’t touch me again.
    “Robert,” I said.
    “Yep.” He turned to me and his eyes met mine.
    “Thanks for letting the anger go and forgiving me.”
    “Grace …” he shook his head. “There is so much … I just … I was pissed off, but I get it, okay? I’m not blameless. I’m just glad Owen came in the café this week.”
    “Me too.” I sighed and then I turned to look out of the window again.
     
    ***
     
    We found a parking space on the old Victorian residential street that housed our flat. Once a street lined with palatial homes for the rich Victorian gentry, it was now littered with hundreds of flats like ours. Robert pulled in and then turned to me. “Ready.” He smiled; I smiled back.
    “She’ll love you.” I squeezed his hand. I had texted ahead to let Maria know we were on our way and to prepare Devon. Despite me being Devon’s mum and Maria Max’s, the lines had been blurred over the years. Devon and Maria had a lot in common. They were both girly girls who loved make up, fashion, shopping and dressing up. I had never been like that. So often Max and I kicked back on the sofa watching his favourite football team, Chelsea, whilst they went shopping. Devon loved Maria like a second mother and I didn’t once worry that Maria wasn’t preparing her for this monumental moment, perhaps better than I ever could.
    We made our way through the porch. I checked the post box out of habit and we made our way upstairs. When we reached the door I smiled encouragingly at Robert and we stepped inside, into our light, airy hallway that was tidy for once. He took it all in, from the wooden sideboard that held photos and neatly piled post, to our shoe rack that must have held every type and size of shoe known to man. There was no getting away from the fact that this was a home, with a family living here who were busy, messy, and judging by the noise coming from the lounge, noisy. I motioned for him to follow me, and we stepped into the open lounge to see three faces turn our way.
    “Devon,” I said lightly, motioning her to run over. My heart melted when I saw that she put her favourite party dress on, a white dress with big pink spots, and a silk pink ribbon around the waist. Robert watched her walk towards us, and his eyes misted over, as I knew he saw what I saw. She was just like him. Her blonde hair fell down her back waywardly, and her blue eyes shone as she trotted towards us from the nest of sofas. Maria and Max were silent and sat down, turning to the television. She stood in front of me, between us, and looked up to Robert. I bent down and spoke to her, “This is Robert Banford, this is your dad.” I smiled. She looked at him and he smiled at her,