Page 7 of Faking It (and falling in love) (The Second Chance Chronicles #3)

Chapter Seven

P hilippa took down the magazine from the stand. Diva . She’d eyed it so many times, but until now she’d never had the courage to take it off the shelf. Diva was the British magazine for queer women and non-binary people, and she wanted to see what secrets it held.

She wondered what the man at the till might think as he scanned it, but he barely looked up. Philippa laughed at herself. No one really cared, did they? She put the magazine in her bag and walked home, still pondering the email from Gerry and what she should do about it.

At home, she put her bag into the boot of her electric MG and drove into the city centre. She needed to go to the office for a few hours.

The morning sped by, filled with appointments and meetings. She met a new client who was trying to get access to his child. Philippa spent time listening to his story and learned that his wife had moved away when she separated from him, taking his daughter with her.

His name was Marcus. He was in his thirties, wore a shirt and trousers, and had sandy coloured hair. He sat in front of Philippa, his face strained and pale.

“I just don’t understand why she’d do that,” he said, his eyes pleading with her. “I knew she wanted out, I knew that,” he continued, running a hand through his fringe. “But when she actually did it, it came as a surprise, ok. I didn’t see it coming.”

“I see,” said Philippa. She’d learned, over the years, that the best thing to do was give her clients the time and space to tell their story before she started giving any advice.

“It was hard, and I was shocked, but it was what Tania wanted. So I moved out. I wanted to make it easy for Fi. I found somewhere a few minutes’ walk away so I could still take her to school and see her all the time.” Marcus twisted his hands together.

Philippa gave him an encouraging smile.

He sighed. “But she says she’s leaving. She says she’s met someone and she’s taking Fi with her to be with him in Wales. It’s a hundred and fifty miles away.” His eyes filled, and for the first time Philippa saw some colour in his cheeks.

“And you don’t want your ex-wife to move Fi?”

“Absolutely not,” said Marcus. “I can’t let her take her away from me. I see her every day right now. If she was that far away, I wouldn’t be able to do that.” A tear dropped down his cheek.

Philippa looked at the paperwork she had so far on Marcus’s case. “No fault divorce, right?”

“Yes, that’s right. And it all went through fine, and we agreed on all the money and everything.”

“Hmm. Ok. Well, the good news is that she hasn’t moved yet. You have options and I can talk those through with you. If all else fails, we could put in place a court order, although I’d advise trying to negotiate before we go there,” said Philippa.

Marcus’s face visibly relaxed. “So it might be ok?”

“I can’t guarantee that,” said Philippa, knowing how important it was to remain transparent. “But I can tell you that you have rights, and so does your daughter, and this isn’t over yet. I’m hopeful that we can do something to improve your situation.”

“Thank you,” he said, allowing a small smile to creep onto his face.

Philippa asked a series of questions and jotted down notes before starting to outline his options.

It was a story she heard often, and one that made her sad.

She was glad she and Paul were in agreement that Birmingham was Dottie’s home, and that it would therefore remain their home for the foreseeable future.

One day she would grow up and decide for herself where to live, but for now, she needed the security of knowing where she was and that her parents were nearby, even if they weren’t together.

Once her appointments were done, Philippa popped out for a bite to eat. She took her copy of Diva with her and began to flick through the articles. One immediately drew her eye, about women who come out later in life.

Was that her? She supposed it was.

One woman in the piece referred to herself as a ‘late lifer’ and talked about the response of her family and friends.

Philippa felt a rush of energy surging through her as she recognised some of the thoughts, feelings and fears these women shared.

She smiled to herself and texted Alex. Perhaps her new friend could help her after all.

Back in her office, Philippa reread Gerry’s email.

He had an opportunity he wanted to discuss with her, but he was really keen to meet her new partner and had invited her and Alex to dinner with him and his wife, Alison.

It was perhaps a bit rash, but the idea of being seen in the world for who she really was, and possibly even celebrated for it, was intoxicating.

She replied to Gerry, asking when and where they should meet.

After work, Philippa went for a run, enjoying the spring air, the smell of new life and possibilities.

She replayed the moment Alex had kissed her cheek and imagined what it would be like to arrive at dinner with Gerry, with Alex on her arm.

The route around the canals in the city centre was routine to her, and she enjoyed the meditative nature of the regular movement.

While she ran, she felt a warmth, recalling the women in Diva who talked about being ‘late lifers’.

It felt good to know she wasn’t alone. She had loved discussing celebrity crushes with Alex and Charlie the other night, but they’d both been out forever.

Philippa was the new kid on the block. She liked the idea of being part of a community of people who had taken a little longer to know themselves.