he wasn’t too sure. ‘I can call them in, if you want. I told you that when their mother died.’
‘I don’t want. And I have help coming.’
‘Excellent. I hope it’s somebody competent. These children have suffered enough.’ The doctor closed Bessy’s patient file with a snap. Consultation over. ‘Let me know if you change your mind. I can get Welfare in tomorrow.’
The house was a tip.
Shanni walked into the kitchen and nearly walked out again.
It was a vast farmhouse kitchen, one wall almost taken up by a huge green Aga. The cupboards and benches were made of a deep, rich wood, and the floor was planked with something that looked like oak. An enormous wooden table dominated the room—a table big enough to…
To hold every eating utensil in the house, Shanni thought incredulously. When had they ever washed up?
‘It’s…it’s a bit messy,’ Wendy said, following Shanni in. She hadn’t put Abby down. She was still staggering under her weight. ‘Bessy was really sick yesterday.’
The two little boys were bringing up the rear. They at least looked like brothers—curly black hair, matching freckles, matching expressions of distrust.
The kitchen was cold. It was a glorious spring day but the place felt damp.
‘We ran out of wood last night,’ Wendy admitted, as she touched the cold stove. ‘Dad ran out of time to chop it. But Dad said just as well, cos he wouldn’t have gone to the doctor’s and left the fire burning. We had cereal and orange juice for breakfast, so we didn’t need the stove.’
‘I see,’ Shanni said. She didn’t see.
Wendy staggered forward and plonked her little sister on a kitchen chair. ‘I’ll find a plaster.’
This at least was a place to start. Abby’s finger was grazed. ‘We need to clean it,’ she told Wendy. ‘Can you find me a face cloth and some soap?’
‘I think so,’ Wendy said cautiously. ‘Are you going to look after us?’
‘I have no idea,’ Shanni told her. ‘Or, not in the long term. But for now it looks like I need to look after you at least until your father gets home. Let’s start with one sore finger.’
Bessy went to sleep somewhere between the doctor’s surgery and the pharmacy. Finally. She’d sobbed practically all the previous night. She’d sobbed in the doctor’s waiting room and in the surgery. The silence as she slid into sleep was almost deafening.
Pierce was lucky enough to find a parking space just outside the pharmacy. Yes! There was no way he was going to wake her.
But here was another occasion where he could be censured by child welfare—never leave your child alone in a car.
It wasn’t like this was a closed-in car. His cute little sports coupé—a bright yellow MX5 he loved almost more than life itself—was open to the sun. It was a gorgeous spring day. He’d be able to watch Bessy though the window of the pharmacy as he dived in and grabbed the prescription.
But there were ten prescriptions before him.
‘It’ll be twenty minutes,’ the pharmacist said, and Pierce almost groaned.
‘I’ve got kids at home and the baby in the car.’
‘Don’t leave your child in the car.’
‘Look, can you fast track…?’
‘Twenty minutes.’
‘Fine.’ He sighed. He couldn’t slug everyone in this town even if it was starting to feel like everyone was conspiring against him. ‘I’ll sit in the car and wait.’
He tried to stalk out, but his legs were too tired to stalk. As he walked past the window on the way out he caught a look at himself in its reflective glass.
He hadn’t shaved for two days. He’d slept in these clothes.
He looked like death. A little old lady entering the pharmacy gave him a wide berth, and he didn’t blame her.
He slid into the driver’s seat of his cool little car. Beside him, Bessy was still soundly asleep.
‘Twenty minutes, Bess,’ he said, but she didn’t stir.
He empathized. He sighed. He closed his eyes.
The warm spring sun was a balm all by itself. It was quiet. So quiet.
Twenty minutes.
He could just fold his arms on his steering wheel and let his head droop.
It was so warm….
‘How long did you say your dad would be?’
‘He said an hour. The appointment was for half past ten.’
‘It’s now well after eleven. Shouldn’t he be back by now?’ Shanni said cautiously.
‘Yes,’ Wendy said, and her bottom lip trembled. Just a bit. She caught herself almost before the telltale quiver happened, but Shanni had seen.
She felt like quivering herself.
Uh-oh.
She was only staying here until Pierce got home, she told herself. Then she was out of here fast. But these kids were starting to look more scared than she was. She couldn’t leave them. Nor could she sit round in this appalling mess worrying about where Pierce was.
They were all staring at her, and Wendy’s poorly disguised quiver was reflected on each of their faces.
They’d lost their mum. Pierce was late.
Their world wasn’t as stable as they might like.
‘Right,’ she said. ‘I’ll ring the doctor’s surgery, shall I?’
‘Yes,’ said Wendy, sounding relieved.
So she rang. Yes, he’d been at the doctor’s surgery.
‘He has to collect a prescription before he goes home,’ the receptionist told her. ‘And he’s probably taken the opportunity to go shopping. Has he left those poor children by themselves?’
There was enough censure in her tone to make Shanni back off.
‘No. They’re with me.’
‘If there’s a problem…’
‘Why would there be a problem?’
‘The child welfare people aren’t all that happy about the way he’s coping.’
Her voice was loud enough for Wendy, clinging to Shanni’s side, to hear.
‘Tell her we’re
