asking where her mummy was. I’ll bring her in in a minute, I just wanted to tell you all this out of her earshot because I don’t want to make it worse, but I had to unload before I blow a fuse. I know she’s only just two but who knows what she’s making of all this?’
‘I can’t imagine. Oh, poor little girl—and poor you! Bring her in and I’ll make coffee. Is there milk in that bag?’
‘Yeah, and a packet of giant triple-chocolate cookies, still warm. I need serious comfort food.’
‘We’d better get started, then,’ she said with a little laugh, and retrieved Zach before he crawled over the step and fell onto the path. ‘Go and get her, I’ll put the kettle on.’
* * *
She took the coffee through to the sitting room where Jake was perched on the sofa staring at the floor, Matilda at his feet building a tower with stacking cups while Zach watched her intently.
‘Hey,’ she said softly, and Jake looked up and met her eyes, his own filled with a worry that he wasn’t even trying to disguise. At least the anger was gone, for now at least, but he just looked desperate and she wanted to hug him. She perched next to him and handed him his coffee and one of the gooey chocolate cookies instead.
‘That’s my second.’
‘Who’s counting? So, what are you going to do?’ she asked, keeping her voice to a low murmur, and he shrugged helplessly.
‘I don’t know. I don’t honestly know what I’m going to do. I’m on carer’s leave at the moment but that’s just crisis management and it can only be for a maximum of ten days, besides which we’re short-staffed as it is, and I don’t want to use the nursery. It seems wrong, when she’s just been abandoned by her mother. What if she thought I’d abandoned her, too? What if she hates it? And anyway, I work crazy hours. She’d practically have to live there, and what about nights when I’m on call? The only way round it is to find a full-time nanny, and they don’t grow on trees, and what the hell do I do in the meantime?’
‘I’ll come and stay,’ she said without a second thought, and it shocked him into silence for a moment. Then he shook his head, the hope that she’d seen in his troubled eyes replaced by despair.
‘No. No, I can’t ask you to do that.’
‘You’re not, I’m volunteering, and it’s nothing compared to what you’ve done for me since Pete died, not to mention the rest of the last twenty years. It’ll get you out of a fix in the short term, give you time to think.’
‘I’ve been thinking. I’ve done nothing but think since yesterday afternoon. There isn’t an answer, Em, and this certainly isn’t it.’
‘No, not long term, of course it isn’t, but I’m still on maternity leave until the middle of June, I’m not doing anything else and how much harder can it be to look after two babies than one?’ she asked, lifting Zach up before he lunged at the plastic cups Matilda had carefully stacked and knocked them all down.
‘Matilda’s not a baby. She can be—’
‘A two-year-old?’ she asked lightly, raising an eyebrow, and he laughed despairingly.
‘Yes. Exactly. And there are the practicalities, like I haven’t got a cot any longer because she’s in a bed.’
‘I’ve got a travel cot for Zach, and we can buy a double buggy from somewhere if we need to, so I can take them out. It’s not an issue, Jake, and it’s not as if we haven’t lived together before. We’re both house-trained. I’m sure we’ll survive. And you can get your life back on track and stop worrying about letting everyone down while you work out what to do next.’
‘Really?’
‘Really. I want to. Please, let me help you.’
He held her eyes for the longest moment, then let out a defeated sigh and nodded. ‘OK. If I wasn’t at my wit’s end I wouldn’t let you do this, but if you’re really sure, it would be amazing. So—when are we talking about? Next week?’
She laughed. ‘I was thinking today? My fridge is all but empty, and it seems like a good time to do it.’
His mouth twitched into what could have been a smile. ‘I have to tell you my fridge isn’t a lot better, but I can soon fix that. I’ll take Matilda shopping and make the bed, and I’ll see you later, if you’re really sure?’
‘That again?’ She laughed, and he gave another crooked grin and hugged her with his free arm.
‘I love you, Em, you’re a star,’ he said gruffly. ‘You’re such a good friend. I don’t know how to thank you.’
Her heart hitched. ‘You don’t need to grovel,’ she said lightly, but she wanted to curl up and cry, because he’d been amazing to her—more than a friend, really, more of a rock in her life, the only constant for the last twenty years, and especially since Pete’s terminal diagnosis.
He did love her, she knew that, and she loved him, too. He was the best friend anyone could have and she’d do anything to help him, but she realised this would help her, too, because it meant she wouldn’t be alone with her thoughts from the moment Zach went down for the night to the moment he woke in the morning, and she was so sick of being alone...
‘You head on back, then, and I’ll pack our stuff and see you later—about five? Then I can give Zach supper before his bedtime so I don’t mess up his routine.’
‘Five’s fine. What does he eat?’
She laughed, her mood suddenly lighter for some reason. ‘I have no idea. It changes from minute to minute. I’ll bring stuff for him, I’ve got baby food and formula. It’s the only thing I have got. And you know me. I eat anything.’
* * *
She was early, of course.
He’d been expecting that. Em was always early. Always had been, unlike him, although he had a golden rule of never being late. Just on time.
So although he’d been shopping and made the bed, the house was still a bit chaotic because he’d brought in Matilda’s things and dumped them in the hall and they hadn’t got any further. On the plus side, he’d borrowed a double buggy and another high chair from Daisy Walker, his clinical lead’s wife, but on the downside they were in the hall as well.
She’d dropped them round on her way to pick up the older children from school, and she’d even given him a lesson in how to fold the buggy, most of which had gone clean over his head. He just hoped Emily could work it out, because he was damned if he could.
He moved it out of the way so she didn’t trip over it, opened the front door and was handed a baby.
‘Here, can you take him, I’ll empty the car,’ she said, and was only halfway down the path when Matilda tugged his jeans and frowned up at him.
‘Baby down,’ she said crossly. ‘My daddy.’
He crouched down with a soft, coaxing laugh. ‘Of course I’m your daddy, Tilly. I’m just holding Zach for Emily. Say hello to him.’
‘No.’
