to you. Talk about child psychology. You’d make a brilliant mother.’
‘Godmother,’ Saskia corrected firmly. ‘I’m not cut out for motherhood.’ Especially now. Though she’d find a better time to tell Lydia about that. ‘Now, I’ve phoned the nursery manager and explained it’s a crisis. They’re fine about having Helena and Billy from eight until four, or whenever Toby or I can get there. Toby and I will synchronise shifts tomorrow, so one of us is on an early while the other’s on a late and we can work around nursery times. You can ring your folks on the way to Manchester airport and let them know what’s happening. I’ve got the hospital’s number in Vancouver, so I can leave messages there. Have you spoken to Paul’s parents?’
‘I’ll ring from Vancouver, when I’ve seen him and can reassure them.’
‘Good idea.’ Saskia hugged her. ‘Right, you’re all set. Give Paul my love. And don’t worry about rushing back. I know he’ll be able to leave hospital in a couple of days, but no way can he tackle a long-haul flight for at least two weeks after the operation.’ Preferably six, to make sure there were no complications. Though she wasn’t going to remind Lydia about that in case she panicked again. Lydia had a cool head where work was concerned, but tended to act like a headless chicken at home. And the idea of Paul having to miss their daughter’s first Christmas because he was thousands of miles away would make her cry all the way to Vancouver. ‘Toby and I will be fine.’
‘Yeah. You’re the best.’ Lydia hugged her back. ‘Thanks, Saskia.’
‘That’s what friends are for,’ Saskia said lightly.
Lydia paused by Helena’s cot. The baby was lying on her back with her hands up by her head. Lydia leaned over to kiss her. ‘My baby. Saskia, I can’t bear this.’
‘I’ll take a picture of her every day and send it to your phone,’ Saskia promised.
Lydia breathed in the baby’s scent. ‘My baby,’ she whispered again.
‘Your baby will be absolutely fine, I promise you,’ Saskia said. ‘I hate to rush you, but you’ve got a plane to catch.’
‘I know.’ Lydia kissed Helena one more time. ‘I have to kiss Billy goodbye.’
‘Quickly. And I’m not being horrible—the more drawn-out it is, the worse you’re going to feel,’ Saskia advised.
Lydia stroked Billy’s forehead. ‘Sleep well, honey. And Mummy’s going to be home very, very soon,’ she whispered. ‘I love you.’
‘And he loves you, too, and he’ll drive you mad with questions about the plane when you talk to him on the phone tomorrow,’ Saskia said, and shepherded her friend downstairs. ‘Now. Handbag?’
Lydia grabbed it from the coatstand. ‘Check.’
‘Money?’
‘Check. I’ll change some at the airport.’
‘Passport, Toby’s sorting. Book to read on the plane?’
‘I’ll get something at the airport.’
‘Passport.’ Toby came into the hall and handed it to her. ‘Saskia, you need to have a word with our Lyd about filing things efficiently.’
Lydia hugged him. ‘Thanks, Tobe. I owe you one.’
‘Any time.’ He ruffled her hair. ‘Come on, let’s go—or I’ll end up having to break the speed limit to get you to the airport on time, and I want to keep my licence clean.’
‘Yes.’ Lydia’s voice wobbled, and it was obvious that she was only just holding the tears back. ‘I can’t bear leaving them.’
‘It’s going to be fine.’ Toby kissed Saskia’s cheek. ‘I’ll pick up some clean clothes from your place on the way back,’ he said.
Saskia had given him a spare key years ago, just as she had the spare key to his house on her keyring. It meant if one of them was on holiday the other could water the plants and generally keep an eye on things. ‘Try to pick something that matches,’ she said.
He snorted. ‘You always wear a black or navy suit and a cream shirt at work. What’s to match?’
‘Shoes. I can’t wear a black suit with navy shoes, can I?’
He rolled his eyes. ‘Women,’ he said, then winked at her and escorted Lydia to his car.
Saskia checked on both children—who were sleeping soundly—then rejected the idea of reheating her fajitas. She ought to wait for Toby, even though she knew it’d be at least four hours before he came back from the airport and their respective houses. She made herself a cup of coffee, raided Lydia’s biscuit tin, took a novel at random from the shelves on one side of the fireplace and curled up on the sofa.
What an evening.
She’d gone out for dinner with her best friend, expecting a chance to chatter and have a glass of wine and put her problems out of her mind. And now she was facing possibly a few weeks of being a stand-in mum.
Wife and mum, seeing that Toby had put himself in the role of stand-in dad.
She shook herself. No. Her relationships were a disaster area, and she wasn’t going to mix up Toby in that. She sighed, wishing Lydia hadn’t even suggested it. She didn’t want to think about Toby in that sense. He was her best friend. Sure, he was good-looking—the blueprint of tall, dark and handsome, with slate-blue eyes and that vulnerable mouth. He was funny, he was clever—he’d made consultant last year at the age of thirty-three—and he was genuinely nice.
In fact, she couldn’t work out why someone hadn’t snapped him up years ago.
But he wasn’t the one for her. Was he?
IT WAS nearly midnight before Toby came back. ‘I stayed to see Lyd onto the plane,’ he explained.
Only Toby would be that thoughtful. ‘You must be shattered. And starving,’ Saskia said.
‘I’m past it now—I couldn’t face the fajitas. I hope you didn’t wait for me.’
She shrugged it off. ‘I wasn’t that hungry anyway. Hey, I’ll make you a hot drink. If you have coffee now, you won’t sleep—so would you rather have camomile tea or hot milk?’
‘They’re both vile,’ Toby grumbled. ‘Nah, I’ll be fine, but thanks for the offer. What shift are you on tomorrow?’
‘Early. You?’
‘Early. But I’ll fix it so I can go in an hour later than you. I’ll drop the kids off, you pick them up.’
‘Sure. I’ll book a taxi to drop me at work, and I’ll pick my car up later.’ She smiled. ‘I made up your bed in the spare room.’
‘Cheers. I’m ready to drop.’ He handed
