Just Another Miracle!

by Caroline Anderson

  The only conversation they had was about the boys, or with the boys, and although it was silly, and she told herself so countless times a day, she missed him.

  ‘Good job, too,’ she told herself. ‘You have no business hankering after the man. Concentrate on your job and leave him alone.’

  But she couldn’t help it. She found her thoughts straying to him umpteen times a day, and in between she was too busy with the boys to concentrate on anything else.

  It was their half-tenn week, and she planned all sorts of activities. There was a gap, though, towards the end of the week, and on Thursday evening they were sitting down for supper—without James, as usual—and Poppy asked them what they would like to do the next day.

  They shrugged. ‘Dunno, really,’ William said. ‘It would be nice to do something with Dad.’

  ‘Don’t hold your breath,’ George said sagely. He was the more pragmatic of the two, the more outward going and verbally direct. William was the thinker, the worrier. Now William was thinking about his father, and George, with customary common sense, had moved on to a topic he could influence. ‘How about shopping? I need a new sports bag.’

  ‘Another one? I don’t think so,’ Poppy said drily. ‘We could go swimming.’

  ‘Nah—we did that on Tuesday. How about the dry ski slope? I want to try snow-boarding.’

  Poppy’s heart sank. ‘I don’t think your father would like that.’

  ‘He wouldn’t know—’

  ‘Who wouldn’t know what?’

  George jumped guiltily at the sound of his father’s voice. ‘Nothing,’ he mumbled.

  ‘George was suggesting a trip to a dry ski slope tomorrow to do snow-boarding,’ Poppy explained, earning herself a black look from George.

  ‘Actually,’ James said, flipping a chair round and straddling it, ‘I was thinking of taking tomorrow off and taking you boys to the zoo.’

  Their eyes widened, then they whooped with delight and flung themselves at him. ‘Can we buy food for the llamas?’ William wanted to know.

  ‘I don’t know. I expect so.’

  ‘Will there be elephants?’

  ‘Possibly. It depends which zoo we go to.’

  ‘Will Poppy come?’

  James met her eyes then. ‘I hope so. The zoo was her idea originally. If she abandons me now I’ll be sunk.’

  Poppy pretended to consider it for the benefit of the boys, but there was no question of it. A day out with James and his sons? She wouldn’t miss it for the world. She finally nodded her consent. ‘All right, then. I’ll come—but I think you’ll need an early night. Tired boys don’t get zoo trips, because they whinge.’

  The boys disappeared like snow in the Sahara. Half an hour later they were tucked up in bed, she had read them a story and was back down in the kitchen.

  James was peering hopefully in the fridge. ‘Anything to eat?’ he asked her.

  ‘Steak,’ she told him, ‘with jacket potato and salad. OK?’

  He nodded. ‘Lovely. What about you?’

  ‘I ate with the boys. We weren’t sure what time you’d be coming back.’ She set the frying pan on the heat and turned to him. ‘About this trip tomorrow—have you really got time?’

  He laughed. ‘Not really, but I’ll make time. Why?’

  ‘Because you can’t go messing them about. You’ve said you’ll take them—’

  ‘And I will. Poppy, I know I’ve let them down in the past, but I really will be here tomorrow.’

  She would believe it when she saw it, she decided. Only an idiot believed everything they were told. She cooked his meal, watched his back as he disappeared into the library, bearing the plate in one hand and a glass of wine in the other, and started clearing up the mess, throwing the plates into the dishwasher with scant regard for their safety.

  “‘Thank you, that looks delicious”,’ she parroted. “‘You’re an angel, Poppy—”’

  ‘Poppy?’

  She spun round, her hand on her heart, hot colour flooding her cheeks. ‘Did you have to sneak up on me?’

  His grin was crooked and hesitant. ‘Sorry. I came to get some mustard.’ The grin faded under her glower. ‘Look, have I done something wrong?’ he asked.

  ‘You?’ She stared at him in amazement. ‘I thought it was me that had done something wrong! You’ve hardly spoken to me since we left my parents’ on Sunday.’

  He groaned, turning half away, then turned back. His eyes, she noticed absently, were tired. Tired and a little bleak. ‘I promised your mother I’d take care of you, that you were safe with me.’

  ‘Does that mean we can’t speak?’ Poppy asked, puzzled.

  He sighed. ‘No, of course not. It just means that I have difficulty trusting myself around you. You’re a lovely girl, Poppy. I’d have to be dead from the neck down not to notice you.’

  She blushed, warm colour sweeping her cheek in a faint tide and stealing her breath away. ‘Is that all?’ she asked, relief making her giddy.

  ‘All?’ James said in disbelief. ‘All? I can’t look at you without embarrassing myself,’ he told her candidly.

  She grinned. ‘You’re no slouch yourself,’ she said softly.

  He swore, quietly but succinctly, and met her eyes, his own heated. ‘OK, we’re both aware of it, but nothing’s going to happen, Poppy. I want you to know that. I can’t give you white lace and promises.’

  Poppy laughed gently, dredging up a careless smile. ‘James, have I asked you to? So you’re a reasonably presentable man with the advantage of scads of dosh. You also have more hang-ups than the average washing line. I’d be crazy to get involved with you. I could end up spending the rest of my life separating you and the boys every time you had a fight!’ She smiled at him to soften her words. ‘Thanks, but no, thanks. I think I’ll stick to my bucolic farmer.’

  She hoped she fooled James. She certainly didn’t fool herself. The image of her bucolic farmer was miles away, lost in the mists of time, firmly supplanted by the tall, powerful man who was cluttering up her kitchen. His kitchen. Whatever.

  She shoved her hands in her pockets so she didn’t grab him, and leant back against the edge of the sink. ‘Your steak will be cold.’

  He blinked, then seemed to collect himself. His mouth firmed as if he was clamping in a retort, and he found the mustard in the cupboard and left her alone.

  The breath whooshed out of her lungs in a little flurry, and she rammed her hands into her hair and rolled her eyes. She was right, she would be crazy to get involved with him, but that wouldn’t stop it happening. ‘Oh, damn,’ she muttered, and turned her attentions back to the dishwasher.

  ‘Dad, look! We can buy food!’

  ‘So we can.’ James rummaged in his pocket for change, and bought two bags of special food for the animals, handing one each to the boys.

  ‘Don’t I get one?’ Poppy teased.

  George and William turned instantly. ‘Buy her one, Dad!’

  She smiled and shook her head. ‘I’ll share yours.’ They ran ahead, darting here and there, clearly having a wonderful time. James and Poppy followed behind, their efforts to impose a system thwarted by the boys’ curious minds and faster legs. They seemed to come back again and again to the penguins, however, particularly the fuzzy little South African baby penguins, by whom the boys seemed inordinately enthralled.

  Then suddenly, when Poppy’s legs were aching and her feet were freezing and her nose was bright pink with cold, the boys lost interest in the zoo altogether.

  ‘Can we go home now?’ they said.

  They had been missing for a few minutes, and had been found, fairly predictably, near the penguins. However, now they had had enough, and George said he didn’t feel very well.

  They did, indeed, both have a rather hectic colour in their cheeks, Poppy thought, and George was hunched over as if he had stomach ache, and so they were bundled back into the car and taken home. They were quiet in the car, but Poppy thought she felt an undercurrent of excitement
that years of instinct told her not to trust. When they arrived back at the house the boys poured out of the car and rushed in, suddenly recovered.

  ‘I feel better now—I think I’ll have a bath,’ George said.

  And William, mumbling, ‘Me too,’ ran off up the stairs after him.

  ‘What about your coats?’ Poppy called, but they were gone. ‘How odd,’ she muttered, and went back into the kitchen. James was hanging up his jacket on the hook by the door.

  ‘How are they?’ he asked.

  ‘Fine. I don’t understand. I don’t trust it.’

  James shrugged. ‘They’re just kids. Who knows how their minds work? I gave up trying to understand them years ago. How about a cup of tea? My feet are killing me and I think I’m on the verge of pneumonia. I would have been better off at work.’

  ‘You loved it, confess,’ Poppy teased, and James laughed drily.

  ‘So I did. Thank you for reminding me.’

  ‘My pleasure.’ Poppy put the kettle on, made a pot of tea and passed a cup to James. Overhead they could hear bathwater running, and the occasional giggle.

  ‘They sound all right,’ James said, stretching his long legs out under the table with a sigh.

  There was a shriek and a splash, and Poppy shut her eyes. ‘Just remember I have to clear up that mess they’re making,’ she reminded him. ‘Perhaps I’ll go and read the riot act.’

  ‘Have your tea first,’ James coaxed. ‘It can’t get any worse.’

  She was tempted. Terribly tempted. He looked wonderful, relaxed and comfortable and good enough to eat. She could have sat opposite him and studied him all day, the crisp brown curls clustered round that strong, wellshaped head, the straight bar of his brows above those astonishingly beautiful gold-green eyes, the slightly crooked plane of his nose slashing his face in half, leading her eyes down to his mouth, the firm, full lips that felt so good against hers, the stubble-roughened skin stretched taut over the strong line of his jaw, its texture so tempting to her hand—

  There was a crash and a scream from above, and Poppy all but dropped her tea and sprinted for the stairs, hotly pursued by James.

  They burst into the bathroom and stopped in their tracks.

  The boys squirmed guiltily. They were sitting on the bathroom floor, still fully dressed, and in the bath, swimming happily in a foot or so of water, was a baby South African penguin.

  ‘Oh, my God,’ James said with feeling. He leant back against the doorframe and studied the little bird with horror. ‘What the hell is that?’

  ‘A baby penguin,’ George offered nervously.

  ‘I can see that,’ James said with deadly calm. ‘Right. Boys, out of here, please. Get yourselves cleaned up and changed and wait for me in the sitting room. Poppy, guard that—’ he gestured at the little ball of fluff swimming cheerfully in the bath ‘—with your life.’

  ‘What are you going to do?’ Poppy asked as the boys scampered off down the corridor.

  ‘Do? I’m going to ring the zoo, then I’m going to get the boys and wring their necks.’

  He left the room, and Poppy perched on the edge of the loo and watched the little bird. It seemed quite happy. She checked the water, relieved to find it was cold, and wondered if she should give it something to eat. What, though? A tin of sardines?

  Better wait for the zoo’s response.

  It wasn’t long coming. James reappeared in the doorway looking less than thrilled, the cordless phone in his hand, and studied the hapless penguin.

  ‘It looks all right,’ he said into the phone. His face was flushed with embarrassment, and he nodded. ‘Yes, I quite appreciate that. Of course, I’ll pay any necessary recovery costs and veterinary bills. Yes, of course. We’ll keep an eye on it—no, we won’t let it out; it’s in the bathroom and the window’s shut. It’s in the bath—cold water? I don’t know.’

  Poppy nodded frantically, and James relayed the information, apologised yet again and finally hung up.

  ‘Ouch,’ he said, rubbing his ear. ‘They weren’t pleased. Apparently baby penguins are very susceptible to aspergillosis, especially under stress.’

  ‘Poor little chap.’

  She reached out to the penguin and it pecked her. So much for her gesture of friendship. ‘What about food?’ she asked, rubbing her hand.

  He shook his head. ‘We do nothing. They’re on the way. I could kill those boys.’ He said it mildly, but Poppy wasn’t fooled. He was furious, and this time, she realised, they had gone too far.

  The penguin’s life could be at risk, and it was their fault. She sighed inwardly. Why had she suggested a zoo trip? she wondered.

  ‘Why don’t you let the zoo man who comes for it have a word with them?’ she suggested.

  James laughed without humour. ‘Good idea. He certainly cut me down to size at a stroke. Perhaps he’d like to take charge of their upbringing—maybe they’ve got a spare cage? On second thoughts he’s probably got more sense—they’re too much of a liability!’

  Poppy smiled at him, hoping to defuse his anger, but he just sighed in frustration and slid down the bathroom wall until he was sitting on the floor, legs bent up, arms resting on his knees, his back propped against the tiles.

  ‘Why my kids, Poppy?’

  She smiled again to comfort him. ‘Perhaps they need a pet?’

  ‘Pet? A pet? Are you crazy?’

  ‘James, most kids have pets. Didn’t you have one as a child?’

  He shrugged. ‘There was an old cat. I had a hamster, too, for a while. The cat ate it.’

  Poppy stifled a giggle, and James glared at her. ‘Poppy, it really isn’t funny. That man from the zoo was furious.’

  ‘I’m sure he was. Don’t worry, James, the penguin’s all right.’

  ‘You can’t tell. Apparently it takes up to three weeks to be sure it won’t succumb to the aspergillosis after the stress.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Yes, “oh”. Poor little blighter.’

  ‘I thought there was something up in the car.’

  James snorted. ‘We should have smelled a rat when they wanted to leave so suddenly. Well, I can tell you, I won’t leave anywhere with them again without frisking them both thoroughly! Are we sure they haven’t got a tarantula or a snake here as well?’

  Poppy chuckled. ‘I think we’re safe on that front. The penguin was more than enough for them. I tell you what, why don’t you guard this little chap and I’ll go and check with the boys and get supper on while we wait for the zoo—OK?’

  She found the boys in the sitting room, wide-eyed and very subdued. ‘That was a bit daft, wasn’t it?’ she said calmly. William began to cry.

  ‘Dad’ll kill us,’ he sniffed.

  ‘I doubt it,’ Poppy said drily. ‘He might want to, but I have to say I think this time you deserve it.’

  ‘Poppy, talk to him,’ they pleaded.

  She shook her head. ‘No. You’re his children, he has a right to discipline you. You’ve been very foolish and irresponsible, and you’ll have to suffer the consequences. So, unfortunately, will the penguin. Apparently it might become ill and possibly even die. You might like to think about that while you wait for the man from the zoo.’

  She reached the door, then turned back. ‘You didn’t by any chance bring anything else home with you?’

  They shook their heads.

  ‘I’m so pleased.’ She went into the kitchen, wondering if she’d been too hard on them, and then decided no, she hadn’t. They had to learn that James could be fair and reasonable even when he was furious, as he now was. She just hoped he would justify her faith in him and not take them apart limb by limb!

  The man from the zoo was very straight with the boys. Apart from the trouble he had been put to, he explained, there was the question of theft, endangering wildlife, causing unnecessary suffering, traumatising a young animal and exposing it to the possible risk of a fatal stressinduced disease.

  By the time he had finished the boys were both in te
ars and vowed never to do anything so foolish again.

  ‘I should ban you both from the zoo for life,’ he went on, ‘but I’ve got a better idea. Rather than take this to the police, I think I’ll ask your father to make a donation to the zoo—perhaps the lifetime adoption of this penguin, for instance.’

  Poppy saw James’s jaw clench. ‘How much is that?’ he asked tightly.

  ‘Fifty pounds a year for hfe.’

  ‘And how long do they live?’

  The man smiled, clearly enjoying James’s discomfiture. ‘About thirty years.’

  Thir—that’s fifteen hundred pounds!‘ Poppy exclaimed in a shocked whisper. The boys’ eyes widened, but James said nothing, just took out his chequebook and wrote out a cheque for two thousand in grim-lipped silence.

  ‘Here,’ he said, handing over the cheque. ‘I’m sorry we’ve been such a nuisance. I hope the penguin doesn’t suffer any repercussions.’

  ‘So do I. Thank you for your donation.’

  James snorted. ‘My pleasure.’

  The boys shadowed him to the door, then as he was leaving George said, ‘Can we come and see him again, if we promise to be good?’

  The zoo keeper looked down at them and relented a little. ‘If your parents keep you under very strict control.’

  ‘They’ll be handcuffed to my side—if I’m ever fool enough to bring them back,’ James assured him.

  He nodded, then, picking up the cage with the penguin safely inside it, he left. James turned to the boys. ‘Bed, I think.’

  ‘But we haven’t had supper!’

  William tugged George’s arm. ‘Come on. I don’t think we get supper.’

  Poppy looked at James, and he shook his head. Oh, dear, she thought. Still, they had been very naughty. One night without supper might just serve to make them think about their actions in future.

  ‘Clean your teeth and get ready for bed, and I’ll come up and see you in a few minutes,’ she told them. She watched them trail across the hall and up the stairs, then turned to James.

  ‘I’m sorry.’