With This Baby.... Caroline Anderson

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      CHAPTER THREE

      AN HOUR later, Jess was back on his lap, sweet and fresh after her feed and second nappy change, and the dogs were hanging around looking hopeful.

      At least, Pepper was looking hopeful, and Dog, head cocked on one side and those ridiculous ears at attention, was watching his master like a hawk. He’d clearly taken to his new playmate, but he wasn’t keen on Patrick being too far out of sight in this strange place, and he certainly wasn’t sure about that funny little thing on his lap.

      Patrick looked down at the dog and gave his ears a gentle tug. ‘It’s all right, boy,’ he said softly, ‘she’s just a baby.’

      Just a baby. Huh! The very idea of this cataclysmic development in his life being described as just anything was laughable, and his brother’s baby was about as complicated as it got.

      The photos leapt into his mind again, the girl he’d seen once a few weeks ago with the man he’d never see again—he’d grown up with him, played with him, fought with him, loved and hated him alternately until, with maturity and understanding, love had won.

      They were probably the last photographs taken of Will alive—certainly the last ones Patrick and his family would have access to—and he’d cut his throat before he’d let his parents near them.

      Not that they were sordid—far from it. They were tender and touching, little intimate cameos, private thoughts and feelings captured, frozen in time. They were good photographs, which didn’t surprise him. Will had always been a keen photographer and he’d had a gift for somehow distilling the essence of a moment.

      However, this time he’d used his skill to capture feelings that should have remained private between the two of them—which, of course, they would have done, had Amy not died. The photos of her revealed her vulnerability with painful clarity, and the naked emotion in some of the shots made Patrick’s heart contract.

      Others, however, were more playful, and they’d made him want to smile. In one, Amy had obviously sneaked up on him with the camera and caught him sleeping. The next one showed him reaching out towards her, his eyes warm and laughing.

      It was almost like a silly holiday snap, fun, less private than the others, and for a moment he considered doctoring it up for his parents and then dismissed it. No. They didn’t need to know about the photos. It would only provoke a barrage of questions, and they didn’t need the answers. He certainly hadn’t.

      Will’s interlude with Amy was none of his business, and he heartily wished it had remained that way, but it hadn’t. Still, the time they’d spent together had brought Jess into the world, a fitting memorial to them both, a sweet, happy little thing who made his throat close with emotion every time she smiled at him.

      For that alone, he could forgive her parents almost anything.

      ‘Patrick?’

      He looked up, dragging himself back into reality, and met Claire’s worried grey eyes.

      ‘Are you OK?’

      His smile was twisted, he could feel it, but too much had happened and he needed time to assemble his emotions.

      ‘Yeah. Yes, I’m fine. I’m just…’

      ‘How about a breath of fresh air? I usually take Pepper out about this time, and Dog looks as if he wouldn’t mind a run.’

      Fresh air sounded good. ‘He’d love it—but what about the baby? Shouldn’t one of us stay here with her?’

      Claire stared at him. ‘You think I’d leave her? She comes too. She loves our walks. I put her in the baby sling, although I must say she’s getting a bit heavy. When she’s bigger she can have a backpack, and then she can see where she’s going, but for now, it’s this.’

      She reached down a padded blue canvas contraption, and Pepper leapt to her feet and ran to the door. Claire laughed softly. ‘She knows, don’t you, darling?’

      Pepper gave one sharp bark and wagged furiously as Claire sorted out the straps and shrugged into the sling.

      Patrick looked down at Jess happily gumming a plastic keyring on his knee, and suddenly didn’t want to hand her over. He realised he was enjoying her, to his enormous surprise, and even the nappies hadn’t been too grim.

      ‘I’ll take her,’ he offered.

      Claire paused. ‘Are you sure? She’s heavy and she dribbles.’

      ‘I’m sure I can cope,’ he said drily, and the next minute Claire had let out the straps on the sling and clipped him into it. Then the baby was threaded in, clamped firmly against his chest, her little arms pressed against his ribs and her feet kicking—ah. Just about safe, but a fraction lower and she might be the only child he ever got to hold.

      ‘I’ve made the straps too long,’ Claire said, and hoisted the baby up a little. He gave a quiet sigh of relief and shrugged into his jacket, catching a smile on Claire’s face before she turned away.

      ‘What?’

      She shrugged, still smiling. ‘Nothing—it’s just not exactly your average dog-walking coat.’

      He looked down at his pale linen jacket, the sort of thing that passed for casual in the city, and one side of his mouth kicked up in a wry smile.

      ‘I have to give you that, but it’s the only one I’ve got with me and it’s a bit chilly outside for shirt-sleeves.’

      ‘Didn’t you bring a jumper?’