chewed that over for a bit. ‘Why is it fantastic?’ he asked cautiously, and here it came. Of course.
‘Because Harry likes you.’
‘Yes?’
‘Yes. He does.’ Her eyes darkened and intensified. ‘Nick, you mustn’t look like that.’ She put out a hand and touched the little boy’s soft hair. Harry was dead to the world, sleeping the sleep of the exhausted as his body was cradled between them. He’d forced himself to stay awake far too late last night, he hadn’t trusted anyone, but in Nick’s arms he’d felt safe.
‘Harry’s had a dreadful time,’ she said simply.
‘I don’t need to—’
‘He wasn’t wanted,’ she went on, ignoring his interruption. ‘His mother has two children by a previous marriage and she didn’t much like Harry’s father. Peter was landed with him at birth.’
‘Peter. You mean…the father kept the baby?’
‘That’s right. It was okay for a while. Peter took Harry with him everywhere, and he loved him to bits. But…almost a year ago he and Harry were in a car accident. Peter was killed. There was a little money from the sale of Peter’s house, held in trust for Harry, so Bernadette—Harry’s mother—decided she’d take Harry in again. Only…she didn’t like or want Harry for himself, and it showed.’
‘You mean she mistreated him.’
‘Dreadfully.’ Her luminous eyes swelled with tears in the dim light. ‘He had a smashed leg in the accident and after she took him home she never went near the doctor again. He needed physiotherapy and he never got it. If you knew the condition he was found in when Welfare finally took an interest…’ She took a deep breath. ‘Anyway, that’s in the past. He’s safe now, settled in one of the homes of the local orphanage system. And with you he seems to have finally made some contact.’
‘I’m not a contactable person,’ Nick said bluntly, and Shanni stared from all of six inches away.
‘Why ever not?’
‘I don’t like children.’
‘Come on.’ She teased him gently with her eyes. ‘You’ve let him give you a numb arm.’
‘Only because I didn’t want him howling the place down.’
‘Liar.’
‘It’s the truth.’
‘Sure.’ Her tone said she didn’t believe him, but she was moving on. She glanced at her watch and, as she moved, her arm shifted away from his. He was aware of a surge of emptiness as she did. A link broken that he’d valued… But she didn’t notice. ‘It’s six a.m. I wonder how the siege is going?’
‘Patiently.’
‘They’ll wait?’
‘For weeks if need be,’ Nick told her. ‘I know our police force. They’ll wait this out.’ Please, he added beneath his breath. The thought of anyone bursting in here with guns blazing left him cold.
But… ‘A week! We can’t live for a week on milk and fruit.’ Shanni brushed her curls back from her face and stood up, decision written firmly all over her. ‘Good morning, Len,’ she said softly, louder than she’d been talking to Nick but still not so loud that she’d wake Harry.
Len wheeled to face them. He looked dreadful, Nick thought dispassionately. The youth looked absurdly young to carry the weapon he had in his hands, and he looked…desperate. The hands that held the gun shook with weariness.
And fear.
Shanni saw.
‘You’re exhausted,’ she said softly. ‘You must sleep.’
‘I’ll sleep when I want to sleep.’ Len’s voice was an attempt at a vicious growl, but it broke in mid-sentence, marking his youth.
‘Okay.’ Shanni made a placating gesture and sat down on her mat again. With them sitting Len seemed to relax. As if they couldn’t spring on him. But she kept right on speaking. ‘Len, I’m really hungry. How about if we order in pancakes?’
‘Pancakes!’
‘There’s a fast-food outlet on the edge of town. They deliver.’
‘You’ve got to be kidding,’ Nick said as Len stared in disbelief. ‘You’re proposing we just ring up and tell them to drive in through the barricades?’
‘I don’t see why not.’ Shanni smiled her very nicest smile at Len—the smile Nick was beginning not to trust. It could make a man do strange things, that smile. ‘My brother’s a policeman. He’s out there somewhere. If I talked to him I reckon we could swing it.’
‘No!’
‘Pancakes and maple syrup and hot chocolate,’ she said beguilingly. ‘Steaming hot…’
Len could well have eaten nothing the day before, Nick figured then, watching the look of raw need flash across his face. He must have stolen the car on Thursday night and maybe he’d been on the run ever since. He’d had one glass of milk last night, and all that was left was fruit, cold and unappealing.
‘I can do this safely,’ Shanni assured him. Then she paused, sneezed, grabbed a tissue from her sleeve and sneezed again. She grinned as she emerged from her tissue. ‘Sorry, guys. Hay fever. It’s that time of the year. Anyway…’ She sneezed again and reassembled. Honestly, she was incorrigible. ‘Just let me phone and you can listen to every word I say.’
She gave Len a happy grin, as if he was a friend, and then she sneezed again for good measure. One more sneeze and she was back to entreaty.
‘Hey, Len, if you don’t like what I do you can shoot me in the toe—and it’s not every day I offer a toe. I’m very attached to my toes.’
Len glared.
Shanni sneezed again. She sniffed and recovered and smiled once more. Her very nicest smile…
‘Len, I’m just a kindergarten teacher with hay fever,’ she said, and the lawyer in Nick made him stare. If he heard this innocent little voice in a witness box he’d know she was lying through her teeth. But Len was no lawyer and she had him dazzled. ‘I’m not some hotshot lawyer with brains like my friend, here,’ she said, waif-like. ‘All I’m saying is that we’re hungry and I can organise us a great breakfast. But you’ll have to trust me.’
He still glared.
Shanni sneezed. She looked so innocent, Nick thought. She’d pulled off her trainers, she was barefooted, fresh from sleep, and her curls were unbrushed and tangling around her face. She sneezed again and he wondered how on earth she’d ever got this job. In charge of a kindergarten? She didn’t look as if she should be in charge of anything. But…there was this tiny twinkle behind her eyes that he mistrusted…
‘Sorry. Drat my stupid hay fever,’ she said weakly. ‘Late spring’s my worst season. They’re cutting hay all around the town and mornings
