Single Dads Collection. Lynne Marshall

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      It was hours later, and the children were in bed. Dan’s luggage was installed in their parents’ bedroom, because, as Emily had pointed out, Harry was about to go back to his own house and it would be silly to change the beds just for two or three nights. They’d had supper and were sitting down with a glass of wine and catching up.

      Well, she wasn’t drinking, and any minute now she’d have to sneak off and deal with Buttercup, but if Daniel was going to be staying there—and he still hadn’t said why he was there, or how long for, or where Kate was—he was going to find out sooner or later.

      Later, preferably.

      ‘I feel nibbly—jet-lag,’ he said, and got up and went out to the kitchen, coming back a few moments later with another bottle of wine and a party-sized packet of hand-fried potato crisps. He ripped them open, tipped them onto the table and sat down, propping his feet up just inches from the crisps.

      ‘So where’s Kate?’ Emily asked him, fed up with waiting for him to say anything and going for the direct approach. ‘Kicked you out because of your disgusting habits?’

      He gave a laugh that sounded just a little hollow to her ears, and reached for some crisps. ‘Never mind about Kate, what’s all the gubbins in the sterilising solution? Looks like bits of a breast pump. Don’t tell me Freddie still isn’t weaned!’

      She shot Harry a desperate look, and he just shrugged.

      OK. So she was on her own here.

      ‘It’s for Kizzy,’ she said, being deliberately evasive. ‘She doesn’t tolerate formula very well.’ OK, slight exaggeration, she’d been fine with it until she’d realised there was a choice, but he didn’t have to know that.

      He stared at her thoughtfully, then turned to Harry and said, ‘So tell me again how this happened? You just found some kid on the street and married her? Bet that caused a wave of grief through your little black book.’

      Harry’s jaw tightened. ‘I don’t have a little black book,’ he replied, and Dan snorted.

      ‘Last time I saw you, you were fighting them off with a stick—and not trying too hard, if I remember correctly.’

      ‘I was young.’

      ‘Oh, and you’re so ancient now, poor old man. All of—what are you, six months older than me? That makes you thirty-one, right? Almost thirty-two? And you married a total stranger because you felt sorry for her? Man, you are nuts. And now you’re living here with Emily and she’s feeding your baby? And I thought I’d just pop home for a few quiet days!

      Emily gave him a strained, apologetic smile. ‘Sorry. Of course, if you’d rung…’

      She left it hanging, and he shrugged and reached for another handful of crisps and another glass of wine. ‘Last-minute flight,’ he said lightly, and she realised he still hadn’t said anything about Kate.

      Well, they all had something they didn’t want to talk about. And she had no doubt he’d tell her in the end. He always had, but she just had to wait and bide her time. In the meantime, he was still grilling Harry.

      ‘So what did your boss say when you dumped this on him?’ he asked.

      ‘Her. And you don’t want to know,’ Harry muttered.

      ‘Let’s just say it wasn’t pretty.’

      Dan threw back his head and laughed. ‘I’ll bet. So that’s it? No more crazily dangerous reporting from Harry Kavenagh in Timbuctoo?’

      ‘It’s still up in the air,’ he said evasively. ‘I’ve got a month.’

      ‘Three weeks,’ Emily put in. Not that she was counting. And she didn’t dare ask what the outcome of his deliberations would be, because she was hoping against hope that he’d pack it all in and stay there and things would…

      Dan was letting his breath out on a long, low whistle. ‘That’s a tough one. It all backfired a bit on you, didn’t it? I mean, if you just married her to give her a better life, you didn’t intend presumably to be a father? I mean, not a real one. Not this real, at least. So what the hell are you going to do?’

      Harry reached for the crisps and sat back casually. ‘We’ll see,’ he said, but there was nothing casual about the tic in his jaw or the way his free hand was crushing the crisps to dust, one by one in the palm of his other hand.

      And for the first time in years, Emily realised she wasn’t actually pleased to see her brother, because his arrival would interfere with the dynamics between her and Harry, and the cosy little family unit she was trying to create felt suddenly very threatened…