She smiled at him. ‘I can honestly say the first thing I remember is from around age seven. I was on holiday with my mum and dad in Boulogne in France. I can remember walking about with cases because we couldn’t find our hotel. Then my father thought it would be interesting to go and watch the fishermen.’ She gave a shudder. ‘Watching fishermen gut their fish was not something I wanted to see as a seven-year-old.’ She turned and smiled at him. ‘That’s my first real memory.’
He sat back a little, unsure where this was going. ‘I can remember having to sit very still for a long, long time. It was at some awards ceremony and my father glared at me every time I moved. I hated the shirt and tie I was wearing because it felt too tight.’
She nodded. ‘What age do you think you were?’
He shrugged. ‘Around five, I think.’
She lifted her hand towards Annabelle. ‘Here’s the thing. Science tells us that the first three years are the most important for a child’s brain development. It’s the first time we’re supposed to form memories—but I can’t remember anything from back then. The experts tell us that young children’s memories change over time, replacing old memories with new ones. So I’m looking at Annabelle and wondering what she remembers.’
‘What do you mean?’ This was starting to make him uncomfortable.
She interlinked her fingers. ‘The brain has connections—hard wiring. Children’s brains are like a sponge—they take in everything all around them. Children are born to learn. By their first year seventy-five per cent of the hard wiring is in place.’ She pointed at Annabelle again. ‘By age three ninety per cent of the hard wiring is there.’
She ran her fingers through her hair.
‘Under the age of two, lots of their development depends on attachment. I wonder if Annabelle’s speech issues could actually be down to the loss of her mother.’
‘What?’ Alex shook his head. It was something he hadn’t even considered. ‘But she was only eleven months old when Sophia died.’
Ruby nodded slowly, ‘Exactly. A baby recognises its mother’s voice in the womb. Once it’s born it puts the face and voice together. It responds to those. You said that Sophia was a good mother and spent most of her time with Annabelle?’
He nodded. ‘Yes, she did.’
‘Then for eleven months Annabelle’s hard wiring was formed all around her mother.’
Ruby sat back, letting what she’d said sink around him. She seemed to know when she’d said enough.
She wasn’t apportioning any blame. She wasn’t being confrontational. She was being logical. She was giving him information and letting him think for himself what it might mean.
He sat quietly. Ruby was relaxed and Annabelle seemed happy. She was busy trying to drown all her plastic dolls in the ornamental fountain and probably block the pumps from here to eternity.
No matter what Ruby had just told him it was comfortable. It was relaxed.
The sandwiches disappeared quickly, followed by some little cakes at the bottom of the picnic basket. Ruby didn’t feel the need to chatter and fill the silence. She was entirely happy to lie back on the blanket and watch Annabelle.
This was something he never got time to do any more.
There was always something to be signed, someone who needed to talk to him urgently. An email or a letter to write. A dignitary to entertain. A celebrity to pander to in order to bring extra publicity and business to Euronia.
Where was the time for Annabelle in all that?
Where was the time for him?
He never got time to be just a father. He never got time to be just Alex. Did anyone in the palace even think of him as just Alex?
He watched as Ruby moved, crawling on all fours, ignoring her dress and bare knees, creeping across the red stones to meet Annabelle and start splashing her with water from the fountain.
Annabelle shrieked in delight and ran around the fountain. It was the finest sound he’d ever heard.
Two minutes later Ruby had the pink plastic ball and was throwing it over the top of the fountain to Annabelle at the other side. But that was soon too safe—too ordinary. Within a few seconds they’d both climbed on the wall at each side of the fountain and were throwing the ball to each other while balancing precariously on the low wall.
He should intervene. He should tell them to stop being so silly. Last time they’d had to replace the blue tiles in the wall of the fountain it had taken for ever. He couldn’t even remember the cost.
But both of them were laughing out loud. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Annabelle so happy. And it was Ruby who was responsible for that.
Something twisted inside him. Part of it was pride, part of it a little inkling of jealousy. Deep down he knew that he should be the one making his little girl laugh like that. But if it couldn’t be him he was so glad that it was Ruby.
Ruby was genuine. Ruby related to his daughter in a way that none of the other professionals had.
He had been so right to bring her here.
Even when the palace officials had voiced their obvious concerns about his latest plans to get Annabelle assessed he’d known that this was the right thing to do.
He’d been right to remember the passion in her eyes when she’d spoken about missing out on the job she would have loved. He’d followed her for years...sent her unsigned flowers. He remembered his surge of pride when he’d found out she’d got her dream job, when she’d been promoted, when she’d published professional papers. All those things had made him happy for her.
Now, in a few short days, she’d started to connect with his daughter.
With him.
There was a scream, followed by a huge splash. A flash of moving yellow rushed before his eyes. He was on his feet instantly.
Annabelle’s eyes were wide. She jumped down from her side of the fountain and ran around it towards the splash, meeting her father as they both peered down into the few feet of clear water.
Ruby was completely under the water, tiny bubbles snaking out from her mouth, her yellow dress billowing around her. Alex leaned over to put his hand in and pull her up—then gasped as she opened her eyes.
The expression on her face was priceless. Annabelle dissolved into fits of laughter as Ruby burst up through the surface of the water, shrieking with laughter.
Alex’s eyes shot up towards the hundreds of windows of the palace. He could only imagine what anyone on his staff might say if they’d witnessed this.
But the laughter was infectious. And Ruby wasn’t at all worried about the fact that her hair was sodden and she was soaked to the skin.
She reached towards his outstretched arm, smiled, and tugged sharply—pulling him straight in next to her.
Even
