by Zee Monodee
She should break the silence in the room. The heaviness was getting at her, scrambling her thoughts. But more than anything, she needed to break eye contact with the handsome man before her. She glanced at her watch, and the air had lightened when they faced each other again.
On a small sigh in relief, she addressed the little boy. “Go get your things, Josh. We’ll be late, otherwise.”
Josh jumped up and ran to his room.
“Will he manage to gather his stuff?” she asked Trent.
“His bag is ready. I usually pack it the night before.”
“Oh.”
Planning and preparedness? Another hundred points for him. When had he become super dad? The flat was a mess, yes, so he wasn’t Superman. But he totally rocked the dad role. She hadn’t seen the children’s mother around, and a part of her yearned to know where the woman could be. But not at all proper to ask something like that out of the blue.
“How’s Matthew doing?” She had completely forgotten about the actual purpose of this visit.
“He slept rather well. The odd cough, but nothing worse.”
His voice came out laced heavily with relief, and the same elation coursed through her.
Why was she reacting in such intense ways? Had the past night upset her so much?
“Great. I’m sure he’ll be okay in a jiffy.” She struggled to keep things light.
“I really hope so.”
Josh ran back into the living room and tugged on Diya’s hand. “Let’th go.”
“Not so quick, young man.” She pulled him back. “Go say a proper goodbye to your dad.”
Josh ran into his father’s outstretched arms and hugged him really tight. A second later, he pulled free. “Can I go now?”
Trent laughed, the chuckle a deep and terribly masculine sound.
“Sure. Don’t be a pain to Diya, okay?”
“I’m sure we’ll get along great,” she said.
After quick goodbyes, the two of them made their way into the parking lot, and Diya secured the boy in the back seat.
Goodness gracious, was she glad to be away from Trent. Elation had always coursed through her to leave any forced proximity with him, but today, the feeling struck her as different. Almost like relief, all while an uncanny cold ripped up an empty hole inside her.
What, ever, could be wrong with her?
Josh babbled happily, and she kept an ear to his chatter as she got in and set out on the road.
“So, where is this outing to?” she asked.
“We’re going to the Cathela nature park. And the teacher thaid we’ll thee tigerth and deerth and tortoith and—”
“Whoa, honey,” she said with a laugh. “Slow down. You're talking even faster than me.”
“I wanna thee the tigerth, if they really look like Tigger.”
“I doubt it, baby.” She chuckled. “Tigger is a bit too exuberant for a real likeness.”
“Oobie thayth they’re like Tigger,” Josh said.
“Oobie? Who’s that?” She glanced at him in the rear view mirror.
“He’th my friend. But only I can thee him.”
“Oh.” An imaginary friend.
“Daddy thays it’th thilly, and Oobie doethn’t exitht.”
Uncertainty thrummed in the little voice. Something she recalled experiencing when she’d been a little kid, too. How many times had she heard those same words from her mother, and from her sisters? Her dad had never told her Daryl didn’t exist. One more point in his favour, for he’d never treated her like she hovered one string short of a violin, like the others had done.
No greater way to kill a child’s spirit than to tell him to can his imagination away.
“It’s not stupid, darling. Only, it’s just that you're the only one who sees him.”
“You think tho?”
The little voice had brightened with hope … an echo of her own when she’d been uprooted from the only life she’d known in England to be brought here in this land of customs and conventions. She’d been little, yes, barely beyond toddler stage, but she had felt the change in the way their mother was bringing them up. It had just felt … off. And wrong, in some way.
“Sure, I do. In fact, I’ll tell you a secret. I have one, too.”
The words popped out of her mouth before she could think them through.
Diya blinked as the memories she’d shoved away assailed her.
Daryl. He’d been her only friend back then, a gentle, dark-haired boy full of laughter and cheeky grins, who’d given her a hand to hold on to while everything spun around her. Daryl had left as quietly as he had come, on the day she’d turned ten. She’d bid him goodbye on a branch of the sprawling maple in her parents’ yard, their usual meeting place ...
“Really? What’th he like?”
Josh’s perky little voice brought her back into the car.
With a twinge of nostalgia at the thought of Daryl, a new question popped in her mind. What was he like? If Daryl had survived, what would he have been like? No clue, but for the sake of the little boy hanging on to her every word, maybe she should embroider the truth a little.
“I guess he’s my version of Prince Charming. He’s handsome, courteous, and chivalrous. He thinks the world is a great place to live in, and he makes every place that way. He loves me for who I am. He gives me flowers, and he makes me feel better when I’m down.”
“Wow,” the little boy said. “Who’th Printhe Charming?”
Strange question. She threw another glance in the mirror. “The prince from the fairy tales.”
“Fairy taleth?”
By then, they’d reached the big iron and steel gate of the school. Diya parked the truck by the pavement, a few feet from the entrance.
“You do know fairy tales, right?”
The boy shook his head.
“Snow White? Cinderella? Sleeping Beauty? Beauty and the Beast? You don’t know all those stories?”
Josh shook his head again.
“Doesn’t your dad read you stories at night in bed?”
His big blue eyes lit up. “Yeah, he tellth uth thtorieth of planeth, flying and cloudth, with big thtormth.”
Clouds and storms? In stories for little kids? Where did the man come from? Asgard?
And how could children not know of fairy tales? Maybe the ones she’d asked about were the ‘girlie’ ones a father might not want to read to his sons. Macho man.
Still, the time had come to drop Josh off.
After getting out of the vehicle, she opened Josh’s door and lifted him from his seat, before putting him on the pavement.
Josh didn’t release her neck, though, and gave her a hug. She stepped back when he loosened his grip. But instead of going into the schoolyard, he stood there.
“Won’t you take me inthide?” he asked.
“Oh. Of course.” Silly of her. She had to escort him in. She clasped his little hand, and they walked in.
She started going to the right, towards the primary school building, when he tugged on her hand.
“It’th in thith direction,” he said as he led her to the left, and the pre-school section.
“You’re in preschool?”
He nodded.
“How old are you, then?”
“I’m four,” he said as he skipped by her side. “No, Daddy thayth I’m nearly five. Matt thayth I’m thtill a baby.”
They reached the door of the class, and a smiling young woman approached them. “Good morning, Josh,” she said.
“Good morning, Mith Debbie.” Josh nearly sang his reply. “Thith ith Diya.”
The young woman extended her hand, and Diya shook it.
“Are you his new nanny?”
Diya stifled a smile. At least the woman hadn’t asked if she was a student in the high school section, or an au pair. In her jeans and sleeveless cropped top, she could easily pass for either. She got carded all the time at the clubs. “No, I’m a family friend. I’m helping Mr. Garrison out for a fe
w days.”
She left the little boy in the other woman’s care, when Josh tugged at her jeans.
“Won’t you hug me goodbye?”
“Of course, sweetie.”
She squatted, and Josh engulfed her in an enormous hug. She nearly lost her balance from the onslaught, but she held on to him and hugged him back.
“Be careful, okay? Don’t go too close to the tiger’s cage once you’re at Casela. You’ll see from the distance if he looks like Tigger or not.”
Josh loosened his grip and nodded, then walked to his teacher’s side and went into his class.
Before crossing the threshold, he waved goodbye.
Diya stood there and waved back. A strange clutch worked itself around her heart, almost crushing the breath out of her lungs. Was this overwhelming sensation what her sisters experienced when they looked at their kids? Lucky them.
As the thought hit, she reeled. What was happening to her? A nagging notion entered her head, and she struggled to shake it away.
Yes, she loved children and craved her own. She usually lavished all her love and attention on her nephews and nieces.
But what she’d felt for Josh had been different. Stronger. More intense.
When the emotion threatened to make a puddle of her, she pushed it away and walked back to her car.
Yet, the strange feeling refused to be dismissed. The unnerving cloak stayed with her throughout the morning, still hovering over her psyche when she reached the restaurant of Palm Palace for their lunch appointment with Gareth.
Goodness gracious, she had to concentrate. Being around Gareth already made a mess of her, and she didn’t need any other silly notions of maternal instincts on top. Was her period near? It would explain all those unnerving mood swings, then. PMS made women mental. There—perfect rationalization.
She settled into her chair in the posh and extremely luxurious setting of the gourmet restaurant and ordered a glass of fruit juice as she waited for her partner to arrive. Ten minutes later, Angélique still hadn’t popped in.
Her cell phone rang, Ange calling.
“Dee, sorry. I’m still at the airport. Problems again to clear the cargo through customs. It’s only now that I’ll be able to access the goods.”
Her stomach bottomed out. No, this couldn’t be happening.
“You mean I’ll have to lunch alone with him?”
“Is that so bad?” her friend asked in a wry tone.
“Of course not.” She rolled her eyes at the intricate cream and gold mouldings on the ceiling. “But what if he thinks I set him up? I’m the one who asked him to lunch.”
“Well, he’ll know you’re interested, and he won’t go searching elsewhere ’til you free yourself.”
“Great strategic plan, Ange.” Ange would make a terrific relationship counsellor, if one wanted to end a relationship, that is, not make it work.
Angélique giggled. “Just enjoy it, Dee. A handsome bloke all to yourself. I’d kill to be in your shoes. Gotta go, they need me.”
Diya cut the call just as Gareth slid into the chair opposite her.
“Hello, Diya.”
She concealed a grimace. “Hello, Gareth. Sorry, but my partner is caught with customs officers at the moment.”
“So it’s only us,” he asked with a slight lift of an eyebrow.
She blushed. “Yes.”
He remained silent, his intense blue eyes on her.
“I was hoping it’d turn out this way,” he added softly.
The spell woven by the grin he gave her caught her in its web again.
Yet, as she kept her focus on his handsome face, the image of another smile battled with this one and pushed itself to the forefront of her mind.
Another smile, which brought a dimple in the left cheek.
***
“We can send you another babysitter in two weeks, sir. All our staff is taken at the moment.”
Trent sighed. “Please let me know as soon as you have someone available.”
He put the phone down and pressed the back of his head to the headrest of his seat.
A week had gone by since he’d fired the last nanny, and he still hadn’t found anyone to replace her. Annoying, to say the least. Time-consuming, too.
He also feared he wouldn’t be able to do a proper job of bringing his sons up if this situation kept up. He carried his worries of them to work, and thus couldn’t do his tasks as he needed to. This then led him to bring work-related stress home, and he’d snap at the kids for no apparent reason when the strain got to him.
But more than this, he was worried about Diya. More precisely, the place she was slowly but surely carving for herself into their little world.
Ever since the first day when she’d taken Josh to school, she’d stepped in and helped him every time she could. Taking Josh to school, taking Matthew, too, when the boy had recovered. Then, she’d pick them up in the afternoon and stay with them until he reached home.
He could hardly take any break from work, since there was no one else to do his job. Administrative work and the logging loads of paperwork always accumulated, whether they were being dealt with in a steady manner or not. Furthermore, he had to be there during working hours and wasn’t entitled to much leave given how he’d recently taken the post. Anyone from cabin crew might need him during the day to process some orders for them, or to take care of some other nagging detail. Blimey. Being the administrative liaison officer for the cabin crew department was a demanding job.
The weariness of this complicated situation engulfed him. The emotion had to be etched on his face by now. He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw in annoyance.
Yet, everything could be much worse. If it weren’t for Diya—
“You still haven’t loosened up.”
The deep voice startled him, and he glanced at the glass door of his wide office. At least, he had a nice space to work in, not some nasty little cubicle with no window and no view.
A smile tugged at his lips at the sight of the burly man walking his way.
He stepped around the paper-strewn desk to shake hands with his visitor. “Still haven’t lost your knack for doubtful humour, Shankar.”
Shankar Basdeo, chief flight operations executive, settled his round and heavy body in a chair.
“How’s it going, man? First chance I’m getting to come to the head office since you got here. Thought I’d drop in and see you.”
Trent laughed. “It’s good to see you, too, mate. How are you? And how’s the family?”
“Kavita bullied me in asking you to come around the house some time with the kids. I guess she misses the twins now that they’re into university in England. Empty nest syndrome, you know.”
“We’ll definitely come as soon as I get some free time. I’d love to taste her cooking again,” he said with a wink. “So, what’s up? How’s it going in Operations?”
“Bedlam, as usual.”
Both men chuckled.
“We could do with you there, you know,” Shankar said in a deathly calm and serious tone.
Trent sighed. Shankar was the man who’d prompted him to come work in Mauritius. Their friendship went a long way, back to when Trent had started his career as Shankar’s co-pilot at British Airways.
“Shan, don’t start with this.” He made his voice sound weary on purpose. “I told you, I have the children to think of. I can’t afford the shift system in Operations. Who’d look after them at night?”
“So you're settling for this boring admin eight-to-four job?”
The other man kept his voice nonchalant as he brushed a speck of dust from his suit, yet, Trent knew he was prodding.
“The children need me. Ever since Crystal died …”
Shankar kept his intense stare on him, and Trent turned his head the other way. Shankar had known Crystal, and what Trent’s life with her had been like.
“Leaving you with a baby and a little kid on your hands, life’s perspective has changed for you. I
know,” the older man said. “Why don’t you get married again?”
He laughed. As if everything could be so simple. Marriage wasn’t for him, not again. Not after Crystal.
“Listen, mate. Right now, my priority is my children. Nothing more, nothing less.”
Shankar lifted his hands in surrender.
“Okay, okay. Can’t blame a man for trying. You know the door’s always open for you in Operations.” He glanced at the room and whistled softly. “Though we can’t compete with this office. Nice place.”
Trent glanced at the blue, white, and grey space, with its steel and glass furniture. Light bathed every corner, making the interior appear airy and much more spacious than it was.
“The decorators did a good job. They just had the offices here redone, you know. Wish they could get the same company to do our drab settings at the airport,” Shankar said.
“You know who did the set-up here?”
“From what I gathered, they’re a small company, just starting, really. The CEO and the Board liked their proposal, and it’s also rumoured they didn’t charge an arm and a leg. They bagged the deal and delivered more than they promised.”
“They’re very talented.” Trent couldn’t keep the awe from his voice. He’d been impressed by the office when he’d first seen it. Its interior design managed to combine modern and warm, something usually not achieved.
Shankar scratched his chin. “If I remember right, their name is ALIDA.”
Chapter Seven
Trent closed his eyes and let his forehead touch the cool leather of the steering wheel cover while he switched the engine off.
His head throbbed, bongo drums playing an erratic beat against his skull. Heat suffused his neck and face, compelling him to loosen the knot on his tie as he exited the car and moved into the building.
The drum rhythm intensified in the closed quarters of the lift, and he shot out of the carriage as soon as the doors opened wide enough for him to pass through.
Having made it into the flat, he heaved a sigh of relief. Home. Blimey, he needed to rest. He’d yearned to come back ever since the early morning, when the air around him had suddenly grown stifling, making his breathing laboured and his throat tight. Damn tropical season shift, the end of March here being the time when the island eased into winter.
