Tempted by the Single Mom

by Caroline Anderson

  * * *

  Ellie dropped the children off promptly at nine, armed with sun cream, wellies and strict instructions to wash their hands after they touched any of the animals, and she went back, walked through the front door and straight into Nick’s arms.

  He gave her a hug, then lifted his head and looked down into her eyes.

  ‘Well, we’re alone. What now?’

  She smiled wryly. ‘Coffee? We should give them half an hour or so to realise they’ve forgotten something. And anyway, I could do with one. It’s been a long old week.’

  ‘Tell me about it. Cappuccino?’

  ‘Perfect. We can drink it in the garden. It’s gorgeous out there, it seems a shame not to soak it up.’

  They went out with their coffees and sat on the bench in the sunshine, faces turned up to the sun.

  ‘This is so nice’ she sighed. ‘I love this garden. There’s always somewhere shady and somewhere sunny, no matter what time of day. I do envy you. Mine’s in deep shade all morning and full sun all afternoon.’

  ‘How’s the building work coming on? You mentioned it last night but you didn’t say a lot.’

  ‘Oh, it’s gutted, all the back half. I didn’t really recognise it, but the site foreman was on the phone so I couldn’t talk to him about timescales or anything, which was a bit frustrating, but they’re certainly getting on with it. The skip was full of kitchen, I know that. We could take a wander round there later, have a closer look.’

  ‘Have you decided what you’re doing with it?’

  ‘No. I think a quick fix and put it on the market, to be honest. It’s just not big enough, and after being here, seeing how the children love to run around in the bigger garden, having the luxury of a playroom and a utility room instead of the washing machine in the garage—well, it’s just pointed out all its failings, really, and they were bad enough before.’

  ‘Can you afford to move?’

  ‘Oh, yes. I don’t have a mortgage, don’t forget, so I should be able to upgrade if I don’t go mad.’

  ‘You’ll lose your sea views.’

  She laughed. ‘Well, you know how much that bothers me,’ she said, smiling up at him, and then she felt her smile fade as she read the look in his eyes.

  ‘Come to bed,’ he murmured softly.

  ‘What, in broad daylight?’ she teased, and he grinned.

  ‘There’s nothing in the rules that says it needs to be dark.’ His smile faded, his eyes intent. ‘I just need to hold you.’

  She lifted a hand and cradled his jaw, feeling the prickle of stubble against her palm. ‘That’s a shame,’ she murmured. ‘I was hoping for rather more than that.’

  He gave a soft huff of laughter and pulled her to her feet.

  ‘I can’t tell you how happy that makes me...’

  CHAPTER TEN

  THEY WENT FOR a walk later, to see her house.

  It was the first time he’d seen it since it had been emptied, and now it was gutted it seemed small and cramped and sadder than ever. And noisy, with the roar of the industrial dehumidifiers in the background.

  They went out to the garden so they could hear themselves think, and from out there he could see it wasn’t possible to do all the things she’d said she’d like to do.

  ‘There isn’t really any way to make it work, is there? No easy way, and you’ll never be able to make the garden bigger.’

  ‘No. No, I won’t. It isn’t big enough to do anything significant with, but it’ll do until I find somewhere better to go.’

  Somewhere like his?

  He felt an odd tug in his gut, a fierce longing, and suppressed it. ‘Have you chosen the kitchen units?’

  ‘No. I’ve got a brochure. I need to do it by Monday, I think.’

  She looked dispirited, and he slung his arm around her shoulders and gave her a quick hug.

  ‘Come on, let’s go and get Rufus and take him somewhere nice for lunch, a pub with a garden. Got any suggestions?’

  ‘There’s a pub on the other side of the river that’s supposed to be nice. I know the way.’

  That day set the tone for the next two weekends when David came up.

  Ellie kept the children overnight, he had them in the day, and she and Nick spent those precious days together in what she’d come to think of as their fantasy bubble.

  And all the time her house was nearing completion.

  So was work on the medical centre, and they moved into the new downstairs staff room with brand-new, comfy furniture and a decent coffee machine, which made Nick happy. She found out that Judith Granger didn’t have cancer, to her relief and Ellie’s, and she was less stressed about work because Liz was able to help again with the children from time to time as Steven’s heart seemed stable on his new drug regime.

  Not so hers.

  Living with Nick, listening to him interacting with the children, listening to the children playing with Rufus in the garden, lying on the sofas at night and staring at the ceiling and talking about not a lot, not to mention the days they spent together when David was there for the weekend—it was like living out a dream, and when her house was finished she’d have to go home and stop playing Happy Families with a man who’d only taken them all on out of the kindness of his too-generous heart.

  He never complained, but then he never had, to the point that he’d had to take drastic action to get his parents to notice that he was struggling, and the last thing she wanted was to put him in that position again, so as soon as her house was ready, they’d move back.

  But for now they were where they were, so she still had a little more time, and she tried not to think about it.

  And then, long before she was ready, the house was. Or almost. It was David’s last weekend before she moved back in, and she spent those two days unpacking all the things that had been put in storage and putting them away, making up the beds in readiness in bedrooms that smelt of fresh paint and new carpet. All that remained was plumbing in the sink and the new dishwasher and washing machine on Monday, and she could move in, so she went back to Nick’s and started to sort out the things they had there.

  She was packing up the toys in the ‘playroom’ that really wasn’t, when he came in and sat down on the sofa, studying her thoughtfully.

  ‘What time are you picking them up?’

  ‘Five. Why?’

  He looked at his watch. ‘So we’ve got two hours. Come to bed with me, Ellie.’

  She looked away, her throat working, unable to hold his eyes. ‘I don’t think we should.’

  ‘Why? You’ve been avoiding me all weekend. I don’t understand. Have I done something wrong?’

  ‘No! No, of course not. It’s just...’ She shrugged helplessly. ‘I’m not sure it’s a good idea. Not now.’

  ‘Why? Why should it suddenly not be a good idea?’

  She looked back at him, feeling a little desperate.

  Because every time we make love, I fall a little deeper in love with you, and it’s killing me.

  ‘Because we’ve invaded your space for weeks now, and I’m so conscious of taking advantage of your good nature, and I really don’t want to do anything to make it any more difficult for us all when we move back out.’

  ‘How will it make it more difficult?’

  ‘Because I don’t honestly know what I feel for you, and every time we make love, it confuses me even more. Yes, I care, but I also feel a huge amount of gratitude, and obviously sexual attraction, that goes without saying, but I don’t know if it’s more than that, and I don’t know if you really want us or if you’re only doing it because that’s what you do, take on lame ducks and look after them. You’ve done it all your life, and here I am, another lame duck with a whole brood of baby ducklings all needing your help, and the closer we are to each other, the harder it is to know what’s real and what’s just wis
hful thinking.’

  ‘Oh, Ellie. Come here.’ He sighed and reached for her, getting to his feet, but she held up her hands.

  ‘Please, Nick. Don’t touch me. Don’t make it impossible for me to do this. I have to do this my way. It’s not that I don’t want you...’

  He dropped his hands and took a step back, and he looked confused but resigned.

  ‘OK. If that’s how you feel, then I respect that. And of course we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. The last thing I want is for you to stay with me out of gratitude.’ He glanced at his watch, and opened the door. ‘I need to walk Rufus. I’ll see you later.’

  * * *

  He didn’t understand.

  Why would she feel like that? He could understand where she was coming from, but really? Gratitude? Surely to God it was more than that? He shook his head, not sure whether to feel rejected or not, but it nagged at him as he walked.

  Was she right about him? About him taking lame ducks under his wing and looking after them? Was that all it was, him falling back into familiar habits? Because it didn’t feel like that. Maybe she was right, maybe they were too close.

  But he wanted to be close to her, and he was pretty damn sure she wanted to be close to him. Or she had.

  What had changed?

  And then Rufus sat down and refused to move, and he realised he’d been walking for two hours.

  His ankle was killing him, his hip was aching, and there was no way on God’s earth he was asking Ellie for a massage.

  He looked around and realised he had no idea where he was, so he got his phone out and pulled up a map.

  Three streets away, buried in the back of the housing development behind her house. He must have walked round in a circle. Just like his mind.

  He hobbled slowly back with the reluctant dog, and she was just getting the children out of the car when he arrived home.

  She gave him a sharp look and frowned.

  ‘Are you OK? You’ve been ages.’

  She sounded worried, so he dredged up a smile and tried not to limp.

  ‘Of course I’m all right, I’ve been exploring.’

  ‘You’re limping.’

  ‘Only a bit. I got a bit lost and overdid it.’

  He looked away and smiled at the children as they ran towards him, little Evie taking a few tentative steps before sitting down with a plop.

  ‘Hey, you’re walking, clever girl!’ he said, and scooped her up without thinking and carried her inside, and she snuggled into his neck and patted his face.

  ‘Nick,’ she said, as clear as day, and he had to swallow hard. God, he loved her. Loved them all. When had that happened? Ellie was right, it was going to be impossibly hard when they moved back into their house in the next few days, and he was going to miss them unbearably.

  How did I let this happen?

  ‘We went to Southwold and had too much ice cream and Oscar was sick in Daddy’s car,’ Maisie told him, getting down on the floor in the hall and cuddling the exhausted Rufus, and he had to remind himself that what their father chose to feed them was none of his business. And anyway, who was he to criticise? He’d nearly walked the dog off his legs.

  ‘I bet that didn’t make him very happy,’ he said, and Maisie giggled.

  ‘He was very cross.’

  ‘Well, it serves him right,’ Ellie said. ‘He shouldn’t have given you so much ice cream. He knows Oscar gets carsick sometimes. Right, come on, time for supper and an early night. You’ve got nursery at eight tomorrow.’

  * * *

  She didn’t know how she got through the evening.

  Nick was obviously sore, but she didn’t dare suggest giving him a massage, not after what she’d said, and as soon as they’d eaten in a rather strained silence she made the excuse of needing to pack a few more things and took herself off to give him space.

  He seemed—well, she didn’t know what he seemed.

  Hurt? Angry? Confused?

  All of the above, perhaps, and she felt awful, but she’d also felt that she was being sucked inexorably into a delusion of happiness that probably wasn’t real. How could it be? She hardly knew him.

  So she shut herself away in the playroom and sorted out more of their things, folded washing, had a shower and dried her hair and got everything ready for the morning.

  She heard him go out with Rufus for the last time, and went into the kitchen, made herself a drink and took it to her room, closing the door firmly.

  A few minutes later she heard him walk down the corridor and pause by her room. She held her breath, her heart pounding, and then he went past and she heard the slight creak of his bedroom door, the click of a light switch, the sound of running water.

  She let out her breath and felt the tension drain out of her. She felt sick. Sick that she’d destroyed the dream, taken it away from both of them, but it was only that, a dream.

  Wasn’t it?

  So why did it hurt so much?

  Please let the plumber come tomorrow. I need to go home...

  * * *

  They moved out the following day.

  The plumber had been, she said, and so she left the children with Liz and went back to his house to get the last of their things.

  She was there when he got back, ferrying stuff out to her car, and she put the things in the boot and closed the lid, then turned to him.

  ‘I think that’s everything,’ she said, and her voice sounded tight and strained and maybe a little tearful. ‘I’ll just have a last check round.’

  He followed her in and sat on the bottom of the stairs, Rufus at his feet having his ears fondled and watching her every move. He heard her go into the utility room, heard the sound of the tumble dryer start, and then she reappeared.

  ‘I’ve put the bedding on to dry,’ she said. ‘I washed it this morning. I think I’ve got everything now, but if I haven’t—’

  ‘I’ll take it to work.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  Her voice was small and sad, and he wanted to cry for her. For her, for him, for the children.

  He got to his feet, his ankle still sore from yesterday, and for a moment they just stood there facing each other, neither of them sure what to do.

  She broke first, and as she took a step towards him he reached for her, folding her against his chest and gritting his teeth. Don’t go, he wanted to say, but he didn’t, because he knew she would whatever he said, and he knew he had to let her go if that was what she really wanted. She needed to know how she felt, needed space to do that, and maybe he did, too.

  ‘I’ll miss you,’ he told her gruffly, and she nodded.

  ‘I’ll miss you, too,’ she said, her voice clogged with tears. ‘Thank you so, so much for all you’ve done for us. I have no idea what we would have done without you.’

  ‘You would have coped. You’re strong, Ellie. You don’t need me, or not for that. It just made it a little easier for you, that’s all.’ He dropped his arms and stepped away from her, and it felt as if he was tearing his heart out.

  ‘You’d better go, it’s getting late,’ he said, his voice scratchy and rough, and she nodded and picked her bag up off the floor.

  ‘Your keys,’ she said, and held them out to him.

  He took them carefully, without touching her fingers, because he knew if he touched her again he wouldn’t be able to let her go, and then he stood back and watched as she got in her car and drove away.

  Then he closed the door, went into the kitchen and the first thing he saw was the pictures plastered all over the fridge. He laid his hand over Evie’s tiny handprint, and had to swallow hard.

  No. He wasn’t going to do this. He was not going to cry.

  He wrenched open the fridge door, poured himself a glass of wine and took it into the playroom.

  The playroom.<
br />
  He looked around, hearing the children’s voices in his head, their laughter, tears, squabbles, the shrill chatter, the endless ‘Why’s from Oscar. He heard Ellie’s voice yesterday, begging him to let her do it her way.

  He couldn’t stay in there, so he went up to the sitting room and lay on the sofa, staring at the ceiling.

  You could colourwash it... New England meets industrial chic...

  He swore and sat up, turned on the television and ignored it, like he ignored the wine.

  Rufus came and got on his lap, looking forlorn, and licked his face and barked softly.

  ‘Oh, Rufus. Are you hungry?’ he asked, and took him down and fed him, but the dog turned away from the bowl.

  She’d probably fed him.

  He opened the fridge again without looking at the pictures and stared at the contents without any real interest. He had to eat something. Cheese?

  He made a cheese sandwich, and it reminded him instantly of the night she’d found the leak, lying on his bed with her eating sandwiches and listening for the sound of the children if they woke and were disorientated.

  And the picnic on the beach, when Maisie had nearly drowned.

  He went out into the garden, sitting in the twilight with his sandwich and the glass of wine, and he could hear the sound of the children again.

  A dog barked in the distance, but Rufus ignored it, lying on his feet and looking forlorn. The dog had followed him everywhere he’d gone to try and escape the memories, but he couldn’t, because their presence was everywhere, in every nook and cranny of the house.

  So he gave up, the wine untouched, the sandwich half-eaten, and got into the bed where he’d made love to her so many times.

  Not a huge improvement.

  He stared up at the ceiling and wondered why a woman he hadn’t even known three months ago could make him feel so lost and so alone. So rejected, for heaven’s sake.

  He thought back over all the things she’d said over the past few weeks, trying to work out when she’d changed. Or maybe she hadn’t. Maybe he’d just ignored the signals.