“Not now. When’s lunch? I’m hungry.”
“After I nurse Alex. Maybe Daddy can make us some sandwiches in the meantime,” Quinn suggested.
Gabe handed over the baby and headed into the kitchen to prepare lunch while Emma sat down on the sofa next to Quinn, her doll momentarily forgotten. She watched in fascination as Alex began to suck greedily, his cheeks puffing out and making her laugh.
“Did I do that?” Emma asked.
Quinn had no idea if Jemma had nursed Emma or bottle-fed her, but it seemed a harmless enough lie. “I am sure you did.”
“Did I like it?”
“I think all babies like it. It’s their only source of food, and it’s comforting to be held.”
“But it’s kind of gross.”
“It’s no worse than sucking on a bottle with a rubber nipple,” Quinn replied patiently. It was only natural that Emma was curious, and Quinn was glad she felt comfortable enough to ask.
“Does your belly still hurt?”
“At times. The incision is still healing, but it feels much better now.”
“Does this mean you’ll have another baby soon?” Emma pinned Quinn with an accusing stare.
“No, darling, it doesn’t mean that. Why do you ask?”
“Because Aidan at school said that you and Daddy will start shagging again and you’ll get up the duff.”
“Well, Aidan needs to mind his own business.”
“Will you start shagging again?” Emma persisted.
“Do you know what that means?”
Emma looked shamefaced for a moment. “No. But it sounds like something that would be fun.”
“It is fun, darling, at the right time and with the right person, but you’re only five years old, so you have years and years to go until you have to concern yourself with that.”
“Will you explain it to me when I grow up?”
“Of course. I will answer any questions you have, as I always do. Now, how about you go wash your hands before lunch?”
“All right,” Emma conceded as Gabe came back into the room. “Daddy, do you like shagging?” she promptly asked. “Mum said it’s fun.”
“Well, I’m glad she thinks so,” Gabe replied.
“Do you like it?”
“Very much. Now, go wash your hands.” Gabe looked at Quinn, who was doing her best not to dissolve in a fit of giggles. “What was that all about?”
“Evidently, Aidan from school has been putting ideas in her head.”
“Ah, Aidan. That child is very well informed for a five-year-old.”
“He certainly is. Shame they’re in the same class again this year.”
“There’s always going to be an Aidan,” Gabe replied. “In my primary school, there was Billy Bacchus. He was a fount of useful information. I think my father would have loved to box Billy’s ears if such a thing were still acceptable. We’ll just have to answer her questions as honestly as we can without volunteering too much unnecessary information. It’s only natural that she should be curious with a new baby in the house.”
“Yes, that’s about the age they start wondering where babies come from. I remember asking my mum after Jill’s baby brother was born. I wanted a sibling so desperately. I thought maybe I could nudge my parents into having another baby. That was before I knew I was adopted.”
“Any word on Quentin’s whereabouts?” Gabe asked.
“None. Logan tried reaching out to Mr. Richards again, but he’s not even taking our calls at this stage. I spoke to Jill earlier and she mentioned that Brian has an idea.”
“What kind of idea?”
“I didn’t get a chance to find out. I’d like to have them round for dinner next week.”
“Sounds great. Shall I cook?”
“I would like them to survive the evening,” Quinn joked as she fastened the buttons of her top. Alex was fast asleep, a small satisfied smile tugging at his lips.
“Takeaway then?”
“No, I’ll cook. It’s been a while since I practiced the culinary arts, and Jill and Brian are not finicky eaters. Pasta and salad will do.” Quinn laid Alex carefully in his cot and followed Gabe into the kitchen.
Emma was already seated at the table, eyeing the sandwiches. “I want that one,” she said, pointing to a ham and tomato sandwich.
“Made it just for you,” Gabe replied cheekily. “How do you both feel about spending Christmas in Berwick this year? My mum is ready to sell the house, so it will be our last Christmas in the family home.”
“Of course. And I’m glad she’s finally come to a decision. Odd timing, though.”
“Not really. She’s already signed with an estate agent and the property has been listed. There probably won’t be much activity before the New Year, but hopefully after the holidays, things will pick up.”
“There’ll be much to do. You’ll need to decide what to do with the contents of the house. Your mum will only be able to take a few pieces with her once she moves into the retirement community. Is there anything you might want to hold on to?” Quinn asked.
“I think Mum’s already decided what she wants to take with her. She’d like to move as soon as possible.”
“I can’t say I blame her. After learning about Catherine de Rosel, I can’t say I look forward to returning to that house either. What a sad story.” Quinn sighed. “I’m glad you’ve arranged to have her buried properly after all this time. It’s the least we could do for her.”
“She’ll be interred as soon as Rhys releases the remains and the artefacts.”
Catherine de Rosel would be buried at the parish church, next to her husband Hugh de Rosel and her lover, Guy de Rosel, who had fallen at the Battle of Bosworth Field. She’d be interred with her amber rosary and Guy’s sword, his most prized possession, which he had laid to rest with Kate and what he’d assumed were the remains of his unborn child in an unmarked grave in the family chapel.
“They’re almost done filming the episode. We’ll be able to take Kate with us when we drive up to Berwick for Christmas,” Quinn said as she reached for an egg and watercress sandwich.
“Who’s Kate?” Emma piped in as she reached for another sandwich.
“She was someone who died a long time ago,” Gabe replied, not wishing to get into the details of Kate’s murder.
“I’m glad we’ll be having Christmas in Berwick. I miss Buster. And Grandma Phoebe. When are we going to see Grandma Sylvia? And Jude?” Emma asked.
Quinn and Gabe exchanged glances over Emma’s head. How could they explain to a five-year-old that Jude was now in a rehab facility, battling his heroin addiction, while Quinn and Sylvia hadn’t seen each other since the day of Emma’s birthday party in August when Jude had dropped a heroin fold that Emma picked up, mistaking it for a sticker?
“We’ll see Grandma Sylvia soon,” Gabe replied vaguely.
“Can I bring Emme when we go to Berwick?”
“If you like,” Quinn replied. She secretly felt sad for Mr. Rabbit, who’d been ruthlessly replaced in Emma’s affections. “What about Mr. Rabbit?”
“He can stay at home. Stuffed rabbits are for babies. Alex can have him,” Emma replied.
“I’m sure he’ll love him as much as you did,” Gabe said.
“Yeah. Whatever.”
The Forsaken (Echoes from the Past Book 4) Page 43
