with which he surveyed the room but didn’t bother to explain that her grandfather had had it decorated for her when she was fifteen. That it reflected the romantic teenager she’d been rather than the down-to-earth woman she’d become.
‘As I was saying,’ she said, doing her best to hold onto reality, ignore the fact that Adam Wavell was standing in her bedroom, ‘the last baby to occupy this nursery was me and only children of only children don’t have nieces and nephews to practise on.’ Then, having given him a moment for the reality of her ignorance to sink in, she said, ‘I believe you have to start with the poppers of her sleep suit.’
‘Right,’ he said, looking at the nappy, then at the infant and she could almost see the cogs in his brain turning as he decided on a change of plan. That his best move would be to demonstrate his incompetence and wait for her to take over.
He set about unfastening the poppers but Nancie, thinking it was a game, kicked and wriggled and flung her legs up in the air. Maybe she’d maligned him. Instead of getting flustered, he laughed, as if suddenly realising that she wasn’t just an annoying encumbrance but a tiny person.
‘Come on, Nancie,’ he begged. ‘I’m a man. This is new to me. Give me a break.’
Maybe it was the sound of his voice, but she lay still, watching him with her big dark eyes, her little forehead furrowed in concentration as if she was trying to work out who he was.
And, while his hands seemed far too big for the delicate task of removing the little pink sleep suit, if it had been his intention to look clumsy and incompetent, he was failing miserably.
The poppers were dealt with, the nappy removed in moments and his reward was a great big smile.
‘Thanks, gorgeous,’ he said softly. And then leaned down and kissed her dark curls.
The baby grabbed a handful of his hair and, as she watched the two of them looking at one another, May saw the exact moment when Adam Wavell fell in love with his baby niece. Saw how he’d be with his own child.
Swallowing down a lump the size of her fist, she said, ‘I’ll take that, shall I?’ And, relieving him of the nappy, she used it as an excuse to retreat to the bathroom to dispose of it in the pedal bin. Taking her time over washing her hands.
‘Do I need to use cream or powder or something?’ he called after her.
‘I’ve no idea,’ she said, gripping the edge of the basin.
‘Babies should come with a handbook. Have you got a computer up here?’
‘A what?’
‘I could look it up on the web.’
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake!’ She abandoned the safety of the bathroom and joined him beside the bed. ‘She’s perfectly dry,’ she said, after running her palm over the softest little bottom imaginable. ‘Just put on the nappy and…and get yourself a nanny, Adam.’
‘Easier said than done.’
‘It’s not difficult. I can give you the number of a reliable agency.’
‘Really? And why would you have their number?’
‘The Garland Agency provide domestic and nursing staff, too. I needed help. The last few months…’
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t think.’ He turned away, opened the nappy, examined it to see how it worked. ‘However, there are a couple of problems with the nanny scenario. My apartment is an open-plan loft. There’s nowhere to put either a baby or a nanny.’
‘What’s the other problem?’ He was concentrating on fastening the nappy and didn’t answer. ‘You said there were a couple of things.’ He shook his head and, suddenly suspicious, she said, ‘When was the last time you actually saw Saffy?’
‘I’ve been busy,’ he said, finally straightening. ‘And she’s been evasive,’ he added. ‘I bought a lease on a flat for her in Paris, but I’ve just learned that she’s moved out, presumably to move in with Nancie’s father. She’s sublet it and has been pocketing the rent for months.’
‘You’re not a regular visitor, then?’
‘You know what she’s like, May. I didn’t even know she was pregnant.’
‘And the baby’s father? Who is he?’
‘His name is Michel. That’s all I know.’
‘Poor Saffy,’ she said. And there was no doubt that she was pitying her her family.
‘She could have come to me,’ he protested. ‘Picked up the phone.’
‘And you’d have done what? Sent her a cheque?’
‘It’s what she usually wants. You don’t think she ever calls to find out how I am, do you?’
‘You are strong. She isn’t. How was she when she left the baby with you?’
‘I’d better wash my hands,’ he said.
Without thinking, she put out her hand and grabbed his arm to stop him. ‘What aren’t you telling me, Adam?’
He didn’t answer, but took a folded sheet of paper from his shirt pocket and gave it to her before retreating to the bathroom.
It looked as if it had been screwed up and tossed into a bin, then rescued as an afterthought.
She smoothed it out. Read it.
‘Saffy’s on the run from her baby’s father?’ she asked, looking up as he returned. ‘Where did she leave the baby?’
‘In my office. I found her there when I left a meeting to fetch some papers. Saffy had managed to slip in and out without anyone seeing her. She hasn’t lost the skills she learned as a juvenile shoplifter.’
‘She must have been absolutely desperate.’
‘Maybe she is,’ he said. ‘But not nearly as desperate as I am right at this minute. I know you haven’t got the time of day for me, but she said you’d help her.’
‘I would,’ she protested. ‘Of course I would…’
‘But?’
‘Where’s your mother?’ she asked.
‘She relocated to Spain after my father died.’
‘Moving everyone out of town, Adam? Out of sight, out of mind?’
A tightening around his mouth suggested that her barb had found its mark. And it was unfair. He’d turned his life around, risen above the nightmare of his family. Saffy hadn’t had his strength, but she still deserved better from him than a remittance life in a foreign country. All the bad things she’d done had been a cry for the attention, love she craved.
‘She won’t have gone far.’
‘That’s not the impression she gives in her note.’
