in trouble.’
‘In that case you’re in trouble.’ She picked up the baby and handed her to him, as clear a statement as she could make. ‘I’d help Saffy in a heartbeat if I could but—’
‘But you wouldn’t cross the road to help me.’
‘No!’
‘Just cross the road to avoid speaking to me. Would I have got anywhere at all if you hadn’t been stuck up a tree? Unable to escape?’
That was so unfair! He had no idea. No clue about all the things she’d done for him and it was on the tip of her tongue to say so.
‘I’m sorry. You must think I’ve got some kind of nerve even asking you.’
‘No…Of course I’d help you if I could. But I’ve got a few problems of my own.’
‘Tell me,’ he said, lifting his spare hand to wipe away the stupid tear that had leaked despite her determination not to break down, not to cry, his fingers cool against her hot cheek. ‘Tell me about the world of trouble you’re in.’
‘I didn’t think you’d heard.’
‘I heard but you asked where Saffy was…’ He shook his head. ‘I’m sorry, May, I’ve been banging on about my own problems instead of listening to yours.’ His hand opened to curve gently around her cheek. ‘It was something about the house. Tell me. Maybe I can help.’
She shook her head, struggling with the temptation to lean into his touch, to throw herself into his arms, spill out the whole sorry story. But there was no easy comfort.
All she had left was her dignity and she tore herself away, took a step back, then turned away to look out of the window.
‘Not this time, Adam,’ she said, her voice as crisp as new snow. ‘This isn’t anything as simple as getting stuck up a tree. The workshop ladies have returned to the stables. It’s safe for you to leave now.’
She’d been sure that would be enough to drive him away, but he’d followed her. She could feel the warmth of his body at her shoulder.
‘I’m pretty good at complicated, too,’ he said, his voice as gentle as the caress of his breath against her hair.
‘From what I’ve read, you’ve had a lot of practice,’ she said, digging her nails into her hands. ‘I’m sure you mean well, Adam, but there’s nothing you can do.’
‘Try me,’ he challenged.
‘Okay.’ She swung around to face him. ‘If you’ve got a job going for someone who can provide food and accommodation for a dozen or so people on a regular basis, run a production line for homemade toffee, is a dab hand with hospital corners, can milk a goat, keep bees and knows how to tame a temperamental lawnmower, that would be a start,’ she said in a rush.
‘You need a job?’ Adam replied, brows kinked up in a confident smile. As if he could make the world right for her by lunch time and still have time to add another company or two to his portfolio. ‘Nothing could be simpler. I need a baby minder. I’ll pay top rates if you can start right now.’
‘The one job for which I have no experience, no qualifications,’ she replied. ‘And, more to the point, no licence.’
‘Licence?’
‘I’m not related to Nancie. Without a childminding licence, it would be illegal.’
‘Who would know?’ he asked, without missing a beat.
‘You’re suggesting I don’t declare the income to the taxman? Or that the presence of a baby would go unnoticed?’ She shook her head. ‘People are in and out of here all the time and it would be around the coffee morning circuit faster than greased lightning. Someone from Social Services would be on the doorstep before I could say “knife”.’ She shrugged. ‘Of course, most of the old tabbies would assume Nancie was mine. “Just like her mother…”’ she said, using the disapproving tone she’d heard a hundred times. Although, until now, not in reference to her own behaviour.
‘You’re right,’ he said, conceding without another word. ‘Obviously your reputation is far too precious a commodity to be put at risk.’
‘I didn’t say that,’ she protested.
‘Forget it, May. I should have known better.’ He shrugged. ‘Actually, I did know better but I thought you and Saffy had some kind of a bond. But it doesn’t matter. I’ll call the authorities. I have no doubt that Nancie’s father has reported her missing by now and it’s probably for the best to leave it to the court to—’
‘You can’t do that!’ she protested. ‘Saffy is relying on you to get her out of this mess.’
‘Is she? Read her letter again, May.’
Chapter Four
THERE was the longest pause while he allowed that to sink in. Then he said, ‘Is there any chance of that coffee you promised me?’
May started. ‘What? Oh, yes, I’m sorry. It’s instant; will that do?’
‘Anything.’
The tiny kitchenette was in little more than a cupboard, but she had everything to hand and in a few minutes she returned with a couple of mugs.
‘I’ll get a blanket and you can put Nancie on the floor.’
‘Can you do that?’
She didn’t answer, just fetched a blanket from the linen cupboard, pausing on the landing to listen. The silence confirmed that the workshop coffee break was over but the thought of going downstairs, facing Robbie with her unlikely visitor, was too daunting.
Back in her sitting room, she laid the folded blanket on the floor, took Nancie from Adam and put her down on it. Then she went and fetched the teddy she’d spotted in her bag. Putting off for as long as possible the moment when she would have to tell Adam the truth.
‘I know you just think I’m trying to get you to take this on, dig me out of a hole,’ Adam said when she finally returned. Picking up her coffee, clutching it in front of her like a shield, she sat beside him on the sofa. ‘But you really are a natural.’
‘I think you’re just trying to avoid putting off telling me the whole truth.’
‘All I know is what’s in Saffy’s letter.’ He dragged long fingers through his dark hair, looking for once less than the assured man, but more like the boy she remembered. ‘I’ve called some of her friends but if she’s confided in them, then aren’t telling.’
‘What about her agent?’ she prompted.
‘It seems that they parted company months ago. Her modelling career was yet another fantasy, it seems.’
May picked up the letter and read it again. ‘She doesn’t sound exactly rational. She could be suffering from post-natal depression. Or maybe having Nancie has triggered a bipolar episode. She always did swing between highs and lows.’
