with Ryan and his children was a refined form of torture. It was, however, a torture Sarah subjected herself to regularly, and Ryan and Ginny seemed to accept her without question. Ryan, of course, knew about Rob and the children, at least in outline, and he knew her well enough to know that his children were safe with her.
How safe she was with them was another question entirely.
She heard the front door open and shut, and Matt’s voice filtered up the stairs and into the bathroom. She pulled out the plug and reached for a towel.
‘Come on, kids, time to get out and say hello to Emily. Where are your pyjamas?’
Evie, of course, knew where hers were. Gus, of course, didn’t have a clue and they had to play hunt the PJs for five minutes in, on and around his bed. The bottoms emerged easily enough from the chaos, but the top was more determined. She ended up lying across the bed, head down, fishing underneath it amongst the clutter he’d hidden there. Finally, though, she located the top.
‘Eureka!’ Sarah cried and came up victorious, clutching the pyjamas in her hand, her hair dishevelled and on end, to find Matt standing in the doorway with an enigmatic expression on his face. In front of him, wide-eyed and silent, was a little girl with dark hair and huge grey eyes, regarding her steadily as if she were quite mad.
‘He lost his pyjamas,’ she explained a little lamely, shovelling her hair off her face with one hand and scooting across the bed. ‘Gus, here you go, put the top on, please.’ She struggled to her feet, straightened her sweatshirt and tried to find a smile.
‘You must be Emily,’ Sarah said to the child, and she nodded soberly. Gosh, what gorgeous eyes. Like Matt’s. ‘So, how was school?’ she asked her.
For a moment she said nothing, then she sat down next to Gus and sorted out his pyjamas. ‘OK, I guess. Mrs Bright’s nice. I like her name and she’s funny. No, Gus, you put your head through this hole here.’
Sarah hid a smile. Why was it that girls always seemed to end up mothering boys? Even older boys. If things had been different—
She straightened, the urge to smile gone. ‘I need to go and help Ryan in the kitchen. Ginny will be home soon and she won’t want to have to cook after her long drive.’
‘She’s back. That’s what I came to tell you—and to get out of their way so they can say hi in peace.’
‘Oh.’ She glanced down at the children, playing happily on the floor with a model farmyard. ‘We may as well go down, anyway. We’ll just have to interrupt them. I could murder a drink.’
‘You and me both,’ he murmured. ‘I don’t think we had time to stop today after that first coffee. I feel totally dehydrated.’
‘We’ll go and break things up, then, before they get so sidetracked that they forget to cook. I expect your Emily will be tired tonight after her first day at a new school and will need an early night.’
‘Not to mention me.’
She grinned. ‘You tired? You amaze me.’
He returned her smile with a slow one of his own. ‘It’s just getting used to the new set-up, although it’s not as bad as I thought it might be. It’s all surprisingly familiar, really, apart from the odd hiccup when I say CBC instead of FBC.’
She shrugged and started down the stairs. ‘Same difference. Full blood count, complete blood count—what’s the odds? I find EKG harder. How do you get K from electrocardiogram?’ she asked laughingly.
He paused on the top step. ‘Search me,’ he said with a grin. ‘Just so long as you yell when you’re lost.’
She stopped on the half landing and turned to look up at him. Heavens, he looked even bigger! ‘Don’t worry, I’m never lost, and if I was, believe me, I’d yell.’ She ran down the last few stairs, conscious of him close behind her, exuding masculine charm in waves.
They found Ryan and Ginny in the kitchen, his hands in the sink scrubbing potatoes, her arms around his waist and her head resting on his shoulderblades.
Ginny straightened and smiled, and Sarah thought she looked tired. ‘Hi, there,’ Ginny said, and her eyes flicked past Sarah to Matt. ‘How did you get on? Ryan says you seemed to fit in very well.’
‘He has the same sick sense of humour at least,’ Ryan growled from the depths of the sink.
Matt laughed. ‘That was just something silly the guy said. It wasn’t even that funny, it just struck a note.’ He peered in the sink. ‘Anything I can do?’
‘Yes—make me a cup of tea while Ryan sticks the jacket potatoes in the microwave. He’s got fresh salads and cold meat and cheese from the deli counter in the supermarket, so he’s got damn all to do. For heaven’s sake, don’t help him, he’s got it easy enough as it is!’
‘Ignore her, she’s just jealous because she insists on doing it the hard way,’ Ryan said with a grin, and then ducked the end of a teatowel Ginny snapped at him.
‘Cook, slave,’ she ordered, and then ran upstairs to change, leaving Ryan humming happily over his potatoes.
‘So, who am I making tea for?’ Matt asked.
‘Pass. Ginny definitely, and I’ve never known Sarah say no,’ Ryan told him, stabbing potatoes and lobbing them into a dish.
‘Absolutely not. Count me in.’
‘Unless you’d prefer wine or beer?’ he continued, looking at Matt.
‘Got any low-alcohol beer?’
‘In the fridge. I’ll have some too. Sarah?’
She was watching Matt as he stooped over the fridge, his jeans pulled taut over his hips and thighs. ‘Tea is fine. I’ll make it,’ she said absently, and wondered what on earth had got into her that she couldn’t seem to stop looking at him. She made tea for herself and Ginny, then took it through to the sitting room, leaving Ryan and Matt alone together.
She needed a minute or two alone, time to think about how she felt and why. It was crazy—must be because they’d worked together all day and were in tune.
So why didn’t she feel the same about Ryan, or Patrick, or Jack? Because she worked with them often enough, God knows, and they shared sick jokes and horrendous tragedies and hilarious moments of black comedy.
So why Matt? And why now, after all this time, did she have to choose a man with a child—and not just a child, but a girl, a five-year-old girl with dark hair and solemn eyes, in need of a mother.
Her arms ached, and she hugged them around her waist so they didn’t feel so empty. Overhead she could hear Ginny, talking to Ryan’s children. She was a stepmother. Her own life had contained tragedy, as had Ryan’s, and they were happy.
Clearly it was possible to start again, to find happiness again with someone else.
She tried to remember Rob’s face, but she couldn’t see it, or hear his voice. Only the voices of the children, and the lusty wail of a new-born baby girl—
‘Hi. Which tea’s
