A Winter's Wish. Alice Ross

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СКАЧАТЬ pretty features twisted into a dubious expression. ‘Hmm. Hold on to that thought for as long as it lasts. Are you really sure you don’t mind?’

      Mind? Does a pig mind muck? Ella almost replied. ‘Of course not,’ she said instead. ‘I’m looking forward to it already.’

      ‘Seven o’clock okay?’

      ‘Perfect,’ said Ella. In oh so many ways.

      That had been her first time babysitting for Annie. And her services had been called upon many times since. But tonight was one of those special nights.

      By the time Ella reached The Cedars, her heart was pounding so much she was convinced the effect must be evident in her push-up bra.

      She rang the brass doorbell. Annie answered it.

      ‘Wow,’ she exclaimed, the moment Ella stepped inside and shrugged off her parka. ‘You look stunning. You meeting up with your mates later?’

      ‘Er, yes,’ lied Ella.

      ‘Come on in,’ breezed Annie, whisking around and marching across the tiled hall. ‘Thomas has been in the foulest mood all day and fell asleep half an hour ago, so you’ll be pleased to know you have one less to deal with. I’ve told Sophie she can stay up until half past eight. And there’s plenty for you to eat. There’s chocolate cake in the fridge, and cheese—’

      ‘And don’t forget my homemade bread,’ came a deep male voice from behind.

      Ella whipped round to find Jake striding down the corridor behind her, looking even sexier than usual in black jeans and a slim-fitting grey jumper, which showed off his toned torso to perfection.

      Ella’s heart skipped a beat, her shaking legs almost caved, and her throat went dry. ‘Hi, Jake,’ she managed to croak.

      *

      ‘I’ve ordered a brochure for St Hild’s Girls School,’ Bea announced over their Chinese takeaway.

      Maddy had been fractious all day, mercifully wearing herself out by six o’clock. With her soundly asleep, Stan had suggested the takeaway as a treat for him and Bea. And, for what seemed like the first time in eons, Bea had actually deemed his suggestion a good one, even going so far as to open a bottle of his favourite Riesling to accompany the food.

      A tiny part of Stan dared to hope they might enjoy a relaxing baby-free evening, along the lines of how they used to spend Sunday evenings in Life Before Maddy, or LBM, as he secretly termed it. He should’ve known better.

      ‘Schools,’ he spluttered, almost choking on his wine. ‘But she’s only nine months old.’

      ‘Precisely,’ confirmed Bea, stabbing an anaemic-looking prawn with her fork. ‘Some people reserve a place before their child’s even born. If we’re not quick, her year will be full.’

      Stan ripped a sheet of kitchen tissue from the roll on the table and dabbed at his mouth. One of his colleagues whose daughter went to St Hild’s was constantly pleading poverty due to the astronomical fees. And his wife was a GP! How on earth Bea thought they could afford such an extravagance when she’d packed her job in, he was more than intrigued to know.

      ‘How much are the fees?’ he asked innocently, opting for the tread-lightly approach rather than the confrontational. The latter would undoubtedly lead to yet another row, which, after spending all day assembling Maddy’s new wardrobe, he didn’t have the energy for. Nor did he want to waste the thirty quid he’d spent on the takeaway, which would inevitably end up in the bin if Bea kicked off again.

      He watched as her slender arm stretched across the pine table and plucked a prawn cracker from the packet, her emerald engagement ring glinting in the overhanging kitchen light.

      ‘Well, it’s not the cheapest,’ she conceded. ‘But it’s a fantastic school. Think what a great start it would be for her, Stan. You only have to look at all the successful people who’ve been there to see how having the name behind you helps you get on. And imagine all the influential contacts she could make.’

      Stan scooped up a forkful of Chow Mein, carefully considering his reply. He didn’t believe in all that public school crap – the nepotism, the elitism. He’d gone to the local comp and worked his butt off to get where he was. There was no substitute for hard graft in his book.

      ‘I’ve heard great things about Buttersley Primary,’ he ventured. ‘A couple of guys from work send their kids there, and they’re always saying what a great little school it is.’

      Bea’s gaze dropped back to her plate. Stan could almost see her brain working out how best to respond. God, it was like a game of chess: each player attempting to second-guess their opponent’s reaction, before daring to make a move. It wasn’t that long ago they used to be so relaxed in one another’s company, tell each other about their day, bitch about work colleagues, giggle at the pathetic office politics surrounding them. Now they were like two adversaries – strangers with completely opposite goals.

      ‘I’m sure it’s a lovely school,’ she eventually batted back. ‘It’s just … not what I want for my daughter.’

      Stan flinched. ‘Er, I think you mean our daughter. And it would be lovely for her to go to the local school. She’d have her little mates around her. Have them over for tea. All that sort of stuff. If she goes to St Hild’s we’ll never be out of the car ferrying her backwards and forwards, and—’

      Bea set down her knife and fork with a great sense of purpose. ‘Well, if you’d rather not put yourself out for the sake of our daughter’s future, then I’ll do all the ferrying.’

      Stan sighed inwardly. As soon as the words had left his mouth, he’d realised he shouldn’t have added that bit about the ferrying. But the fact that St Hild’s would mean a forty-mile round trip every day wasn’t the main reason he didn’t want Maddy to go there. He honestly did think it would be lovely for her to feel part of Buttersley. And it wasn’t as if the village school was full of glue-sniffing, drug-snorting reprobates. Perfectly nice children went there, from respectable families. Surely that would suffice until Maddy was eleven at least. But before he could bolster his case, Bea had rocketed off on a super-charged tangent.

      ‘And what about horse riding? Or tennis?’

      Stan shook his head in an attempt to clear it. ‘What are you talking about now?’

      She rolled her eyes. ‘Our daughter, of course. I think it’s important we decide what extra-curricular activities we’d like her to be involved in.’

      Stan set down his fork and scratched his head. ‘But she can’t even walk yet. How on earth do you expect her to hold a tennis racket?’

      Bea gave an exasperated tut. ‘Honestly. Sometimes I think you’re not remotely interested in Maddy’s future.’

      Stan gawped. ‘Of course I am. But don’t you think it’s a bit early to be talking about all that stuff? You’ll be booking the church for her wedding next.’

      In one swift move, Bea scraped back her chair and thrust to her feet. ‘Now you’re being facetious. And the way I’ve been feeling lately, that’s the last thing I’ll be doing,’ she huffed, before strutting out of the room.

      Stan СКАЧАТЬ