Single Dads Collection. Lynne Marshall

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СКАЧАТЬ If he was going to be living next to her for longer than ten minutes, he’d work out that she was alone. Anyway, she didn’t think he was worrying about that at the moment. He was busy looking slightly stunned, and she wondered if she’d looked like that last night when she’d seen his baby for the first time.

      Probably. She’d been shocked, because the last time they’d met, they’d both been single and free, and now, clearly, he wasn’t. And as for her—well, she was single again, but far from free, and maybe it was just as much of a shock to him to know she was a parent as it had been to her to realise he was.

      Because, of course, if she knew nothing about his private life for the last umpteen years, it was even more likely that he knew nothing about hers.

      Or the lack of it.

      He gave her a cautious smile. ‘Coffee would be good. Thanks.’

      Coffee? She collected herself and tried for an answering smile. ‘Great. Come through the fence—the gate’s still here.’

      She opened it, struggling a little because the path was a bit mossy there and the gate stuck, and he grabbed it and lifted it slightly and shifted it, creaking, out of the way.

      ‘The creaking gate,’ he said, and added, with that cheeky grin that unravelled her insides, ‘It always did that. I used to know just how far to open it before it would rat on me.’

      And she felt the colour run up her cheeks, because she remembered, too—remembered how he’d sneak through the gate and meet her at the end of the garden in the summerhouse, late at night after everyone was asleep, and they’d cuddle and kiss until he’d drag himself away, sending her back to bed aching for something she hadn’t really understood but had longed for anyway.

      ‘We were kids,’ she said, unable to meet his eyes, and he laughed softly.

      ‘Were we? Didn’t always feel like it. And the last time—’

      He broke off, and she took advantage of his silence to walk away from the incriminating gate and back up the garden to the house, Freddie on her hip swivelling wildly round and giggling and shrieking, ‘Baby!’ all excitedly.

      She really didn’t want to think about the last time! It should never have happened, and there was no way it was happening again.

      She scooped up the runner beans from the step, shoved open the back door with her hip and went in, smiling at him over Freddie’s head.

      ‘Welcome back,’ she said, without really meaning to, but she was glad she had because the weariness in his eyes was suddenly replaced by something rather lovely that reminded her of their childhood, of the many times she’d led him in through her parents’ back door and into the welcome of their kitchen.

      ‘Thanks.’ He reached out and ruffled Freddie’s bright blond curls. ‘I didn’t know you had kids.’

      There was something in his voice—regret? She shot him a quick look, filed that one for future analysis and put the kettle on. ‘Yup. Beth’s three, nearly four, and Freddie’s nineteen months. Real or instant?’

      ‘Have you got tea? I daren’t have too much caffeine. I had so little sleep last night I want to be able to grab every second of it that’s offered!’

      She laughed and reached for the teapot, lifting it down from the cupboard and putting Freddie on the floor. ‘Darling, go and find your cup,’ she instructed, and he trundled off, humming happily to himself.

      ‘He’s cute.’

      ‘He is. He can be a complete monster, if it suits him, but most of the time he’s gorgeous.’

      Harry gave a strangled laugh. ‘I wish I could say the same for this one, eh, Mini-Dot?’

      ‘Mini-Dot?’ she said, spluttering with laughter, and he chuckled.

      ‘Well, she’s so tiny. It’s not her real name. Her real name’s Carmen Grace—Kizzy for short.’

      ‘Oh, that’s pretty. Unusual.’

      ‘Grace is for my grandmother.’

      ‘And Carmen?’

      His face went still. ‘For her mother,’ he said softly, and there was an edge to his voice that hinted at something she couldn’t even begin to guess at. Maybe he would tell her later. She hoped so, because she didn’t feel she could ask. Not now.

      She would have done, years ago, but they’d spent every waking minute together in those halcyon days of their youth and there had been nothing they hadn’t shared.

      But now—now she didn’t know him at all, and she didn’t know how much he was going to give her, and how much she wanted to give back.

      So she said nothing, just made them tea and found a few chocolate biscuits and put them on a plate. Then Freddie came back with his cup trailing a dribble of orange juice behind him, and she refilled it and mopped up the floor and hugged him, just because he was so sweetly oblivious and she loved him so much it hurt.

      He giggled and squirmed out of her arms and ran out into the garden, and they followed him, she with the tray, Harry with the baby—Mini-Dot, for goodness’ sake!—and she led him to the swinging seat under the apple tree.

      ‘Is this the same one?’ he asked in wonder, but she laughed and shook her head.

      ‘No, it fell to bits. Dad bought a new one a few years ago, so you don’t have to sit down so carefully any more.’

      He chuckled and eased himself down onto the seat, leaning back and resting his head against the high back and closing his eyes. ‘Oh, bliss. This is gorgeous.’

      ‘Bit of a change from your usual life,’ she said without meaning to, and he cocked an eye open and gave a rusty little laugh.

      ‘You could say that.’ For a moment he was silent, then he sighed and opened his other eye and turned his head towards her. ‘It takes a bit of getting used to—the quiet, the birdsong, the normal everyday sounds of people going about their daily lives. Crazy things that you wouldn’t think about, like the sound of a lawnmower—when I can hear it over the baby, that is,’ he added, his mouth kicking up in a rueful grin.

      She answered him with a smile, then felt her curiosity rise. No. She wouldn’t go there…

      ‘What happened, Harry?’ she asked softly, despite her best intentions.

      His smile faded, and for a moment she didn’t think he was going to answer, but then he started to speak, his voice soft and a little roughened by emotion. ‘I found her—Carmen—sitting by the side of the road, begging. Every day I walked past her on my way from the hotel and gave her money. Then after four days she wasn’t there. The next time I saw her, she’d been beaten up. Her mouth was split, one eye was swollen shut and the other one was dull with pain and despair. She wasn’t expecting anything—a few coins, perhaps, nothing more—but I took her to a café and bought her breakfast, and talked to her. And it was only then that I realised she was pregnant.’

      Emily clicked her tongue in sympathy. ‘Poor girl.’

      He nodded. ‘She’d been raped, СКАЧАТЬ