‘Josie loves her and Maria can’t help what happened,’ he said. ‘She’s a sweet little girl and I can’t clear off home and risk her being left alone to cry for hours. She deserves healthy meals and drinks when she wants them. To have access to the toilet.’
Looking guilty and contrite, Loren nodded. ‘How long can you take her for?’
Shock slashed through him. ‘What?’
Loren looked confused. ‘You said you couldn’t leave her here, didn’t you? Maybe a week or so’s all I need to get my head straight—’
‘Take Maria and look after her?’ he demanded, to be clear.
‘Oh, that wasn’t what you meant.’ Loren began to cry again. ‘I know it’s not fair. Her father doesn’t want anything to do with her other than minimal financial support and Mum’s stressed because Dad’s having his triple heart bypass on Monday. I thought … well, you’ve got Tilly.’
‘I know,’ he said, helplessly. ‘But—’
‘Just a week,’ she begged. ‘Or I’ll have to see about her going into care—’
‘NO!’ cried Josie, bursting into the room. ‘No, Daddy, don’t let her! I know what care is. It’s in Jacqueline Wilson books about Tracy Beaker. Maria would be with strangers and I wouldn’t see her.’ Then she threw herself into Nico’s arms, sobs roaring from the back of her throat.
Holding her warm, slight frame tight, Nico hunted for the right thing to say about a system he only had the vaguest knowledge of – except that, yes, it certainly meant Maria going to strangers, if no one else could step in. And if his ex-in-laws had issues of their own then nobody sprang to his mind. Then he became aware of Maria standing just inside the door, gazing at the scene as if from the outside, fidgeting. Although there was no way she could understand what was happening her eyes were fixed on him. She gave him a tentative smile, round cheeks lifting and tiny teeth gleaming white.
He realised he couldn’t turn his back and leave this innocent toddler to the neglect Loren appeared capable of, nor to the ministrations of a care system he’d never experienced. Although he knew social workers must do their best to keep children in communication with whatever family they had, he had a nightmare vision of her vanishing like a mountaineer into a crevasse.
‘OK. For a couple of days until we see how you are,’ he heard himself say.
Chapter Four
Nico wasn’t happy about leaving Loren alone but he drew the line at inviting her back to what had once been their home. ‘Should you ask a friend over?’ he suggested, instead. It had been a while since he’d known much about her friends. After Josie had been born she’d withdrawn to a place where he couldn’t reach her and even conversational questions hadn’t been received well.
Her smile wobbled. ‘I think it would be better to have an early night.’ She didn’t say ‘sleep it off’, probably because of the presence of Josie who was drying her eyes and gazing up at Nico as if he’d saved the world.
That might be the way children saw parents but, as Loren and Josie packed Maria’s clothes and toys, he felt more at sea than in charge. What had he let himself in for? Loren had calmed now, softly murmuring, ‘This is good of you. I’ll be fine when I’ve had a break to get my head together.’ Nico wished he shared her confidence. After what he’d witnessed tonight, things getting so bad that Loren had failed to hide her undesirable behaviour, he couldn’t imagine when or if he’d be able to leave Josie with Loren overnight again and that thought led logically to uncomfortable conclusions about Maria’s vulnerability. He might find himself in the position of telling social services that Maria was at risk.
Once all was ready, they said goodbye to Loren, who managed watery smiles. With a feeling of unreality Nico pushed the buggy bearing a toddler in pyjamas and a big coat through the chilly October streets, bags hooked over the handles. Josie hadn’t needed a buggy for five years so he felt stiff and clumsy as he negotiated kerbs. Maria sang to herself for a couple of minutes then, no doubt exhausted, plummeted into the sudden sleep of the very young.
Josie kept glancing silently, uncertainly at Nico.
He wasn’t happy with the situation but they were in it so it was up to him to make it work. ‘So, this is a surprise.’ He made his voice encouraging and calm and not as if the logistics of what came next were frying his brain. He had less than twenty-four hours in which to arrange childcare for a two-year-old. ‘Shall we make up the pull-out bed in your room for Maria?’ A mattress on wheels slid out from beneath the pink frame of Josie’s bed. It was meant for the occasional school friend sleeping over but it would suit a toddler.
Josie nodded, managing a quick, watery smile. ‘And if she wakes up in the night I’ll cuddle her until she goes back to sleep.’
She was so quick with the response that Nico suspected, with a flash of anger, that it must already be a familiar situation. He toyed with saying something to remove the responsibility but decided that if Maria cried he’d hear her and would naturally intervene.
Once Nico had manoeuvred the buggy through their front door, wondering if the space had narrowed since he’d last tried it, he left Maria slumbering peacefully while he made up the pull-out bed. Josie alternated between excited assistance, shrill uneasiness and getting in his way. The ability to ease a slumbering toddler out of a coat and slide her into bed didn’t seem to have deserted him and soon Maria lay looking tiny in the bed, fair hair curling over the pillow, eyelashes thick enough to cast their own shade on her cheeks. Nico wondered with detachment whether the curls came from her father. All he knew about him was that he had had a fling with a married woman and ignored his own kid.
That it had ended his marriage Nico had minded especially for Josie. He remembered the feelings of loss and grief when his own parents had parted, even though, at fourteen, he’d been better equipped to cope.
Purely for himself, the end of the relationship had, along with the sorrow, brought some relief. No more pretending he didn’t mind living a sterile existence in which he could hardly remember what a woman’s touch felt like. No more putting up with. No more being embarrassed by.
‘I’ll get in my ’jamas then turn out the big light and leave the lamp. Maria doesn’t like full dark,’ Josie whispered, suddenly older than her years as she pulled her pyjamas and dressing gown off the hook on the door.
Nico gave her a hug. ‘I’ll make us hot chocolate.’ It would be too much to expect Josie to go straight to sleep, though it was past her usual bedtime. He was pouring the hot milk onto the drinking chocolate when she reappeared, her purple fleece dressing gown dotted with crescent moons.
She pasted on a bright smile and began to chatter. But the words wavered on her lips and suddenly she was crying instead. He shoved the milk further onto the worktop and caught her against him, holding her tightly, murmuring, ‘It’s OK, sweetheart. It’s OK,’ even though he knew a drunken mum and a neglected baby sister couldn’t be an OK thing for an eight-year-old to see.
All he could do was cuddle up on the sofa and talk about what had happened, learning in dribs and drabs, shrugs and mutters, that Mummy had ‘smelled funny’ and Loren had seen her ‘taking a long nap on the sofa’ before. ‘Two times me and Maria got up in the morning and Mum was asleep on the sofa.’
He stroked her hair, cold inside as he acknowledged that Loren must have waited until the girls had gone to bed then drunk herself insensible. ‘Maybe Mum hasn’t been feeling well. I’ll talk to her about trying not to upset you or Maria in future.’
‘’K.’ Josie buried her face in her mug of chocolate and he felt grieved for her jumble of emotions and loyalties. It was nearly ten by the time she’d unwound enough to go to bed, tiptoeing around Maria, though the toddler slept as if no more than a dragon’s roar would wake her. Nico left her listening to a Roald Dahl audiobook and returned downstairs, tidying the kitchen and lounge with automatic movements, one eye on the clock. When Josie had been in bed for fifteen minutes without coming down he decided she was sufficiently settled for him to call
Loren’s parents in Reading.
Vivvi and Redfern occasionally had Josie to stay or took her out for a day. To Nico they were polite but chilly. It was as if, he mused as he listened to the ringtone, he’d been the one to let down Loren. Maybe he had. Maybe another man could have supported her through her postnatal depression better or stopped the drinking.
‘Hi,’ he said, when his ex-mother-in-law answered, her voice surprised and apprehensive at the unscheduled call. He decided to jump straight in. ‘Sorry to call so late. I have to discuss something with you and I had to wait for Josie to go to bed.’
‘Oh?’ Vivvi replied, sounding mistrustful. ‘Is Josie OK?’ When Josie had stayed with him instead of leaving with Loren, she’d been openly unconvinced that a father could look after a child as well as – or better than – a mother.
He began the story, speaking unemotionally and trying to be factual and objective, neither sensationalising nor trivialising but hoping to put over the unsettling reality.
At first, Vivvi was inclined to be defensive, as if he’d called her to tell tales.
Gently, he broke into her splutterings. ‘I’ve talked to Josie and there have been elements of this behaviour before today. I had to leave Loren alone and bring Maria home with me. I’ve called you because I think you need to know those things.’
His words were met with several seconds of silence. Then Vivvi gave an exasperated groan. ‘I suppose I’ll have to drive over to see Loren tomorrow. But Red’s having a triple bypass op on Monday, so I can’t stay.’
‘Loren mentioned that. I hope everything will go well.’ Nico felt a band above his eyes as if he were wearing a too-tight hat. ‘Will you pick Maria up at the same time?’
Vivvi gave a strangled exclamation, a cross between dismay and incredulity. ‘How can I look after a two-year-old when Red’s in intensive care? I’ll have my hands full, especially once he’s home from hospital.’
‘Right.’ Nico had asked the question more as a reminder that the toddler wasn’t his responsibility than in expectation of her taking responsibility but the band around his head tightened.
‘Look, Redfern’s already in bed and I’m shattered.’ Vivvi’s tone indicated she didn’t need additional worries. ‘I’ll ring Loren now. Thanks for letting me know.’ She hesitated then added ungraciously, ‘I accept it’s awkward for you with Maria but it’ll be short term. And you do have a nanny.’
Nico was left with a dead phone in his hand and a flame of anger in his chest. Term began on Monday and Tilly didn’t work for him while Josie was at school. Any change to that would cost him a fortune. He wished Loren wasn’t an only child. A handy sibling to give Maria a little holiday from Loren would be welcome right now.
He went upstairs and peeped through Josie’s half-open bedroom door. Both girls were out for the count looking very much like sisters – lips parted, fair eyebrows half-lifted as if asking questions as they slept.
He jogged back downstairs, sloshed whisky into a crystal tumbler and threw himself into his favourite chair, swinging his feet onto the footstool before taking out his phone to text Tilly. I have an issue I’d REALLY appreciate your help with from Monday. Can I call you tomorrow? When would be good? He wouldn’t call without notice on her off-duty hours. Tilly might not look like a typical party animal with untrendy hair and a dislike of make-up but, according to her, she packed a lot into her weekends.
It was late before he went to bed and then he slept fitfully, surfacing from dreams about Josie under some nameless threat or Maria vanishing from his temporary care. Even Loren flitted into his dreams long enough to jerk him awake with a heavily beating heart. Murky water might have flowed beneath their bridge but he cared what happened to her. Had leaving her alone been irresponsible? But bringing her here had felt impossible. He closed his eyes and willed his body to relax.
A few hours later he jerked awake to hear Josie and Maria giggling. The events of yesterday rushed back at him. The clock told him it was before seven. After checking the girls were OK he watched them navigate the stairs together – Josie running lightly and Maria going down backwards on hands and feet. Nico made a fast circuit of the house to check for hazards. After putting bleach out of reach and the knife block in a high cupboard he saw the girls were watching TV. ‘I’m going to run on the treadmill,’ he said. ‘Will you be OK with Maria, Josie?’
Josie nodded without looking round so he headed for the treadmill in his bedroom, leaving the doors open and the music off so he could listen for problems over the thumping of his feet on the rolling road.
When he’d run eight kilometres he went down to look in on the girls again, now playing with small chunky dolls that must belong to Maria while the TV still blared. Josie glanced up. ‘Are we having eggs for breakfast?’
Nico took a look into the kitchen, seeing almost-empty cereal bowls and splashes of milk that suggested Josie had helped them both to sustenance already. He winked at her. ‘Cereal isn’t breakfast?’
‘No,’ she said with certainty, shaking her head so that her hair danced. ‘Cereal’s a snack.’
‘Eggs, Mydad,’ echoed Maria in her tiny-girl coo as if trying to encourage him to get cooking. Her hazel eyes were on him, one foot hidden by her pyjamas. She wrinkled her nose and lifted her top lip like a tiny horse whinnying.
He enjoyed seeing the sisters playing together. He supposed Loren was right and a lot of men would look at Maria and see ‘problem!’ flashing over her head but he saw a toddler who deserved being looked after. Right this second, he seemed to be the person with that responsibility. ‘Eggs first and shower later? Or shower first and—’
‘Eggs first!’ Josie leaped to her feet.
‘Eggs!’ Maria clambered to hers.
Nico got Josie to help Maria onto a bar stool as he had no high chair. She drank diluted orange juice from a plastic beaker, eyes swivelling between Josie and Nico.
He made scrambled eggs. Josie liked her toast so lightly done that it was little more than hot bread so he did the same for Maria and she ate it contentedly. He sat down with them at the breakfast bar and slowly ate one slice of toast with scrambled egg himself. The undemanding company of the two girls soothed the tight sensation of being under pressure.
A text arrived from Vivvi. Spoke to Loren last night. She seems in a state. I’ll visit her today. Will contact you when I know more.
As he might as well be on good terms with his ex-mother-in-law if possible, he thanked her.
It was while he was supervising the girls dressing – Maria looking on trustingly while Josie selected her day’s clothes from what Loren had sent with her – that Rob rang, his cheerful, booming voice full of bonhomie. ‘So you think my stupid sister’s OK?’
Drained in comparison, Nico settled himself on the bedroom floor, watching Josie try to coax pink ribbed tights up Maria’s chubby legs while Maria pulled at the eyelashes of a doll. ‘She seemed OK to me. Absorbed in her shop.’ He thought about Hannah and the satisfaction he’d gained from merchandising her shop. And, if he was honest, the glow it gave him to see the pleasure in her eyes as she’d gazed at his handiwork. He tucked the phone beneath an ear so he could swizzle the foot of Maria’s tights so the heel wasn’t on top. He decided not to say anything to Rob about exactly how much time he’d spent with Hannah. If Rob’s concern was, as Hannah said, that she had no plus-one for the wedding, it might heighten those worries if he got the idea Hannah had exhibited no plans for her weekend apart from work. Neither did he feel like explaining that his gaunt appearance had made Hannah suspect he was living on the streets. It wasn’t shame he felt exactly but—
OK, it was shame. Or, at least, a need to hide the details, even from Rob, who knew about his issue.
‘How are the wedding plans going?’ he asked.
‘All good!’ Rob boomed. ‘Honeymoon plans even better. Your family room at the Port Manor Hotel will be waiting for you from three p.m. on Friday thirteenth November. Check out by noon on Sunday the fifteenth.�
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‘Right.’ Nico felt his heart give a slither of apprehension but he ignored it. Today was the first of November so he had a whole two weeks. Something would have happened to relieve him of Maria by then.
Tights finally in place, Josie threaded her little sister into a purple dress with a white fluffy rabbit on the front. Maria turned to him, pointing to the bunny. ‘Look, Mydad.’
‘Rabbit,’ he said, automatically. And then, because the weird situation hit him with breathtaking force, he found himself jumping up and crossing the landing to his own room so he wouldn’t be overheard, pouring out to Rob what had happened last night.
Rob gave a low whistle. ‘She’s seriously staying with you? Are you, like … sure? I mean, Maria—’
Nico rolled his shoulders to release tension. ‘What else could I have done?’ It wasn’t an empty question; he was curious as to whether there was something he was missing, some door marked ‘way out’ that he was overlooking.
‘Loren’s family,’ Rob suggested.
‘I’m hoping, but Loren’s dad’s having heart surgery tomorrow so her mum has her hands full. Loren’s an only child. I can’t think of a handy aunt or cousin who’d step in.’ Nico glanced in the mirror, rubbing his stubbly jaw and deciding tomorrow would be soon enough to shave.
‘Loren’s friends?’ Rob tried again.
‘No idea who they are,’ Nico answered tiredly. ‘If I’m not prepared to have Maria for a couple of days then the choice is: leaving her with a woman who’s not looking after her or notifying social services.’
‘Holy shit.’ Rob sounded stunned.
‘Yep.’ When the conversation had ended with Rob wishing him good luck, Nico saw he’d received a text from Tilly. Will phone you about noon.
Great, thanks, he returned, and, to show appreciation, You’re a star. Then he stepped onto the landing in time to see Emelie, who stayed at her boyfriend’s place a lot at weekends, yawning her way up the stairs, flaxen ponytail dishevelled and mascara smudged.
Christmas Wishes: From the Sunday Times bestselling and award-winning author of romance fiction comes a feel-good cosy Christmas read Page 6
