by Karin Baine
‘That’s a really good idea!’ Victoria slammed her cup back down on the table, sloshing the contents into the saucer.
‘What is?’ With one hand Robyn quickly moved the newspaper cuttings out of the path of the tea puddle slowly spreading across the table, and used the other to soak up the mess with a napkin.
She exuded a self-confidence Quinn had once had, before a runaway boyfriend and being catapulted into life as a single foster parent had robbed her of it. With a little time and more experience she hoped she’d soon be able to clear up her own messes as swiftly and efficiently.
Although she’d never regret her decision to leave her full-time teaching position to raise Simon, she did envy both women to a certain degree. They were still career women, free to gossip over coffee without feeling guilty about taking some ‘me’ time. It was just as well they’d been so welcoming, arranging this meet as soon as she’d expressed an interest in the committee. Otherwise her jealousy might have got the better of her again.
‘Personal impact stories, of course. Perhaps we could collate short statements from patients and their families, past and present. They could give an account of what the hospital has done for them and what it would mean to lose its support.
‘That could add a really heartfelt element to the cause...’
‘I could make a start with the families of the other children who were treated after the school fire.’ Quinn knew most of them by sight now, if not personally, and they were certainly aware of Simon. Their kids had been discharged from the hospital long ago whilst he and Ryan, who’d suffered the most serious injuries, were still receiving treatment.
This new mission would give her an introduction into a conversation which didn’t have to solely revolve around Simon’s trauma. She wasn’t the one who bore the physical scars but even she was sick of the sympathetic murmuring every time they walked past.
‘Fantastic. That would be better coming from you, a concerned parent, rather than a soon-to-be-out-of-work member of staff.’ Victoria’s smile softened her features and her praise endeared her to Quinn even more.
‘We might even get the papers to run a series of them to really hammer home how much a part of the children’s recovery the Castle has become. Honest raw emotion versus cold hard cash...I think my contacts at the paper would be only too glad to wage war on some corporate fat cats.’ Robyn was furiously scribbling in a reporter’s notebook she’d plucked from her handbag.
‘Quinn, I’ll pass your name on to a few of the patients who want to help. You could be the co-ordinator for this leg of the campaign, if that’s not too much trouble?’ After draining her cup, Victoria got to her feet and effectively ended the meeting.
‘Not at all. I could even make up some questionnaires to hand out if it would make things easier?’ Admin she could do, and while paperwork had been the bane of her teaching career it was something positive here. It gave her an identity which wasn’t merely that of Quinn, the single mother. She still had one useful function.
‘I’ll leave the details to you and try to organise a collection point for the completed papers. I’m really glad you’ve joined us, Quinn.’ Another smile of acceptance and a firm handshake to solidify her role on the team.
Robyn, too, was packing up to leave. ‘All excellent suggestions. I’ll be sure to put your name forward for a medal or something at the next board meeting if we pull this off. In the meantime, I’m going to go make some more phone calls.’
She gave a sharp nod of her head as though to assure Quinn she’d just passed some sort of initiation test before she vanished out the door after Victoria. It seemed she was the only one not in a hurry to get anywhere.
She took her time finishing her latte and the caffeine seemed to have kicked in as she went to collect Simon with a renewed bounce to her step. Her well-received ideas today gave her hope that somewhere down the line she might come up with another brainwave to aid Simon as well as the hospital.
She rounded the corner and stopped dead, the rubber soles of her shoes squealing in protest on the tiled floor as she pulled on the emergency handbrake.
Unless her eyes were deceiving her, Simon and Matt were walking towards her. Panic slammed into her chest that something was wrong; there was also a fluttering in her pulse, followed by irrational fear again...then relief because they were both smiling. And finally, a surge of gratefulness she’d chosen a dress today instead of her jeans and cardi.
So, her wardrobe choices had become decidedly more feminine this week. It was an ego boost; she felt better inside when she knew she looked good on the outside. It held no significance where Matt was concerned. She definitely hadn’t been paying more attention to her make-up and clothes in case she ran into him again so she looked her best. That would mean she regretted telling him to leave the other night which wasn’t possible. Her primary focus would always be Simon and any other future foster children over men with wanderlust in their bewitching green eyes.
‘Hey. Is everything all right?’ She managed to keep her voice steady and un-chipmunk-like regardless of her heart pounding a dizzying beat.
All of the thoughts she’d had about him since that night hit her at once as the sight of him reminded her she hadn’t exaggerated the effect he had on her. Her lips tingled with the memory of him there, her skin rippled with goose bumps as though his hand still rested upon her and the hairs stood on the back of her neck where he’d kissed her so tenderly.
She supposed it would be really out of order to grab the fire extinguisher off the wall and hose herself down before she forgot where she was and tried to jump Matt’s bones.
‘I thought I’d call in and see how things were going.’ He ruffled Simon’s hair, not meeting her eyes.
Did he mean that in a purely professional capacity? Was he checking in to see how she was after their moment of madness, or just Simon? Why was she overanalysing his every word like a neurotic teenager when she was the one who’d called it a night? She’d forfeited her right to be on his watch-list when she’d directed him towards her front door rather than her bedroom door.
And now her imagination was really going into overdrive, along with her heart rate. Any minute now her tachycardia was going to require a hospital stay of her own if she couldn’t stop thinking about Matt without his scrubs.
She cleared her throat and refocused. He was wearing clothes. They were in public. He had Simon by the hand. Anything remotely erotic beyond that was in her disturbed mind.
‘We’re chugging along as usual.’ The only disruption to their carefully organised schedule were the distractions she was seeking to stop her obsessing over a certain medic. ‘Oh, and I’ve volunteered my services to the hospital committee.’
‘Good. Good. We can use all the help we can get.’ Matt rocked forward and back on his toes, displaying the same unease about seeing each other after their last meet.
Yet, he’d come to seek her out. Albeit using Simon as some sort of barrier between them.
‘How did you get on today, sweetheart?’ It was never fun waiting on the sidelines no matter what the purpose of the visit because there was no telling how his mood would be at the end of these appointments. No child enjoyed sitting still for too long or being poked and prodded by doctors and nurses. Although there was no dragging of heels when he was with Matt. She should really capitalise on that and get him home while there were some happy endorphins going on.
‘Okay.’ It was probably as good an answer as she could hope for.
‘I took the liberty of checking on Simon while I was here. Everything seems to be healing nicely.’
‘Yes. Thanks to you and the rest of the staff.’ Praise where it was due, Matt was very skilled at what he did and everyone here was working to ensure Simon’s scarring would be as minimal as possible.
‘And you. Aftercare at home is equally as important.’
Quinn didn’t know how to respond to his kind acknowledgement that she’d contributed to his recovery in some small way. So far, she’d only seen the areas in which she’d failed him.
As they ran out of things to say to each other, memories of that kiss hovered unattended between them, the air crackling with unresolved sexual tension.
‘Matt says we can go to the zoo tomorrow.’ Leave it to Simon to throw her even more off guard with extra last-minute drama.
‘I don’t think so.’ They’d had this conversation so she could prepare him for the disappointment when they ended up going alone, impressing upon him the importance of Matt’s job and how he couldn’t take time off when small boys demanded it.
She wouldn’t expect Matt to keep his word given the circumstances, when he’d either be nursing a bruised ego or breathing a sigh of relief after she’d rebuffed him. Although, strictly speaking, she hadn’t rejected his advances; she’d simply declined a further sample of his wares before she became addicted.
Simon’s bottom lip dropped, indicating the moment of calm was about to come to an abrupt end.
‘If you have other plans I totally understand. I really should have got in touch sooner.’ Matt raked his hand over his scalp, mussing his usually neat locks.
Quinn found it oddly comforting to find she wasn’t the only one trying to keep her cool.
‘No plans.’ Certainly none which included spending another day in adult male company because she apparently had trouble containing herself when left alone with one.
‘Good. It’s a date, then.’ Matt’s very words, no matter how innocently intended, shattered her fragile composure.
Whatever deal these two had struck this time, there was no going back on it; otherwise Simon would never forgive her for it. She couldn’t afford to be the bad guy here.
‘Great,’ she said, smiling sweetly while glaring daggers at Matt. She didn’t understand why he’d insisted on making this happen when it had been made very clear socialising between them wasn’t a good idea at all.
* * *
Matt strolled towards the designated meeting point for his day out with Quinn and Simon. He never imagined he’d be back playing the stand-in father figure so soon but he couldn’t go back on his word to Simon.
Okay, he wasn’t being totally altruistic; he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Quinn, or that kiss they’d shared, no matter how hard he’d tried to avoid her. In the end he’d resigned himself to see this through, spurred on in part by the glimpses he’d caught of her flitting in and out of the department like a ghost until he hadn’t been entirely sure if she was anything but a figment of his overactive imagination.
It was difficult to convince yourself you weren’t interested in someone when they were at your place of work every day and driving you to distraction when you knew how it was to hold them, taste them, be with them.
In the cold light of day he should’ve been relieved when she’d sent him home for a cold shower. After all, he’d had more than enough family duty stuff to last him a lifetime. Instead, he and his dented male pride had brooded, mourned the loss of something which could’ve been special.
It was seeing Quinn carry on taking care of Simon regardless of her own wants and feelings which had made him see sense in the end. Forget the playboy car and bachelor pad in the city; he was a thirty-five-year-old man, an adult, and Simon was the child who had to come first.
Now he was committed to this he was going to make it a day to remember. One which wouldn’t be dictated by hospitals and authorities for Quinn and Simon. If Matt had learned anything about raising younger sisters, it was how to have fun and keep their young minds occupied away from the harsh realities of life.
Quinn had declined his offer of a lift but he hadn’t minded since it reduced his responsibilities for the afternoon. It gave the impression he was more of a tour guide today rather than a date, or part of the family, and that suited him fine. As soon as they were back on the train home he was off the clock with a clear conscience and his promise kept.
Little Venice, with its pretty barges and canals, was only a short distance from his apartment and the Tube station. The perfect place to pick up a couple of tourists already waiting on the bridge for him. They were watching the boats below, oblivious to his arrival, and Matt took a moment to drink in the sight.
Quinn, dressed in a daisy-covered strappy yellow sundress and showing off her toned, tanned limbs, was the embodiment of the beautiful sunny morning. Simply stunning. Simon, too, was in his summer wear, every bit as colourful in his red shirt and green shorts. Quinn knelt to slather on sun cream to Simon’s exposed skin and plonked a legionnaire-style cap on his head. As per instructions, she wasn’t taking any chances of the sun aggravating his already tender skin.
‘Look, Quinn. It’s Matt!’ Simon spotted him over the top of his foster mother’s head and was suddenly running at him full pelt.
‘Oof!’ A five-year-old hug missile knocked out what was left of his breath after seeing Quinn.
‘Hi,’ she said, brushing her hair from her eyes as he walked towards her.
Matt held out his hand to help her back to her feet, with Simon still attached one-handed to his waist. ‘It’s nice to see you too.’
‘Sorry, he’s very excited.’ With a warning to calm down before Matt changed his mind, Quinn untangled the little person from him. The threat wasn’t the least bit likely but it did the job.
‘Me too.’ Matt’s grin reflected that of his co-chaperone for the day and sealed a non-verbal agreement that they’d put their indiscretion behind them and start over.
‘Where are the animals?’ Simon piped up, understandably anxious when he’d been promised monkeys, giraffes and all kinds of exotic new friends, only to find water and barges as far as the eye could see.
It was all part of Matt’s plan to build the excitement a while longer and capture Simon’s attention for the main event.
‘They’re at the zoo, which we’re going to, but a tourist trip around London isn’t complete without taking in a show.’ He could see Quinn frowning at him out of the corner of his eye but the surprise was just as much for her.
Simon skipped between the two adults as they walked down towards the red-and-yellow barge covered with a huge stripy canvas top. They must’ve looked like any other young family from a distance and he was surprisingly comfortable with that thought...as long as it was short-lived. Today all Matt wanted was for Simon to feel comfortable and the beaming faces beside him said the lie was worth telling.
‘A puppet show?’ Quinn’s eyes were wider than those of the other children trooping past them on the gangplank into the quirky theatre barge.
‘I’ve heard the kids love it and it’ll get Simon used to being on board before we take a water taxi on up to the zoo.’ Apart from being the perfect excuse for him to see it for himself, the dimly lit area would also serve as a gentle icebreaker into the general public. He didn’t want Simon to become too overwhelmed by the hordes of people who’d undoubtedly be at the zoo on a day such as this.
‘You really do think of everything.’
It was a compliment, not a criticism, but it was truer than Quinn would ever know. He hadn’t left anything to chance, having planned every tiny detail of this trip in those moments he’d lain awake since agreeing to it.
Matt escorted them to their tiered seats looking down on the small stage, away from prying eyes. The one concern he’d had was that Simon might find the small space too claustrophobic. On his initial admission his notes had mentioned he’d been trapped in one of the classrooms and Quinn had mentioned his nightmares regarding his entrapment and not being able to find his way out. He needn’t have worried. Simon was as enthralled with the old-fashioned marionettes adorning the walls as any of the other children. Matt was the only one experiencing difficulties with the low ceili
ng and small walkways and that was purely down to his height.
‘I’ve never seen a real puppet show before.’ Quinn leaned in to whisper in the darkness, her thighs touching his on the small bench where they sat, her excitement inadvertently increasing his.
‘Well, they say it’s recommended for small kids from five to ninety-five and I think we fall right in the middle of that age bracket.’ He reached across to whisper back, the soft waves of her hair brushing his cheek, and it was all he could do not to nuzzle closer and breathe in her sweet scent. This was supposed to be a PG-rated show and he didn’t want to run the risk of being asked to walk the gangplank of shame because he couldn’t control himself around her.
‘In that case, we’re the perfect audience.’ Her eyes glittered in the darkness as she hugged Simon close.
‘Perfect.’ Matt ignored the rising curtain, mesmerised by Quinn’s childlike wonder instead.
* * *
Quinn was in her very own fairy tale. So far she and Simon had been enchanted by their favourite childhood tales brought to life by puppets and had a good old singalong to some very familiar nursery rhymes. Simon had really thrown himself into the audience participation, as had Matt.
Perhaps it was the relative safety of dimmed lighting which brought her boy out of his shell, or maybe he was simply following the exuberance of Matt’s tuneless singing, but in that hour no one could tell he was different from any other boisterous child.
Matt had whisked them straight onto another barge when the show ended and they’d trundled along the tranquil waterways towards the zoo. It was the best route they could’ve taken, so peaceful, and a world away from the crowded streets beyond the green banks.
She’d been on boats before but never the barges. The hand-painted green-and-red beauty they were travelling on transported them to another era, a parallel universe where everything was well in her world.
How was it Matt could take such a simple idea and turn it into something special?
That was the talent which charmed adults as much as the children.
