As they travelled up in the lift, Bibi said to Mel, ‘You know what? If you did something with yourself you could be quite pretty.’
Mel replied gravely, ‘Thanks.’
The moment Bibi had disappeared into the bathroom, Dex said, ‘I’m so sorry. I only met her once. She’s not my girlfriend. I can’t believe she turned up like this.’
Needless to say, in answer to all the questions put to him by Mel and the rest of the fostering and adoption team he had passed himself off as altogether more sensible and sedate in his social life than the picture that was currently being painted. This was bad news. Plus, he was going to kill Kenny for giving Bibi his address.
‘Don’t worry,’ said Mel. ‘I’ll put the kettle on.’
Never mind the kettle. Where was the Scotch?
‘Ooh, that’s better!’ Bibi was back in record time, tottering into the kitchen adjusting her short skirt and putting away her lip gloss. Seriously, how attractive was it to slather your mouth with a thick jammy coat of fluorescent pink gloop?
‘We do have an important meeting.’ Dex indicated Mel. ‘You’ll have to go now.’
‘He’s a terror.’ Blithely ignoring him, Bibi popped the cork off the champagne and beamed at Mel. ‘He loves my boobs, you know. Just loves them.’
‘No I don’t,’ Dex said quickly.
‘Yes you do! And I knew he was a naughty boy. I mean, at the party, there were three of us fighting over him. It was crazy! But like I said, when you meet the right one, you don’t let him get away. Even if he does have the naughtiest reputation on the planet!’
Dex’s heart sank. ‘I don’t have a reputation.’ He shook his head at Mel. ‘She’s making this up.’
‘Your friend Kenny says you do. He told me you’ve slept with practically every girl in London. Hey, don’t look so worried, that’s not a bad thing!’ Bibi rushed to reassure him. ‘It means you’ve had loads of practice so now you’re really good at it.’
He finally got rid of her, but not before she’d glugged half the Bollinger straight from the bottle and offered to come back later for a night of fun he’d never forget. Her parting shot to Mel was, ‘Seriously, babe, a bit of Restylane injected into the soles of your feet and you’ll be up on your Louboutins in no time! Give it a try and I promise you’ll never look back!’
‘Sorry,’ said Dex when she’d gone.
‘No worries.’ Mel smiled briefly. Which would have been more reassuring if she weren’t also scribbling something in her notebook. She closed it before he could see what she’d written.
‘I had to say I’d give her a call. It was the only way to get rid of her. But I won’t be doing it.’
‘Right.’ She nodded. ‘Can I ask you something? The comment about you having slept with most of the girls in London . . .?’
‘I haven’t. Of course I haven’t. Just . . . you know, a few.’ Dex paused; when Mel looked at you in that way it was kind of daunting, like being hypnotised into telling the truth.
And he definitely couldn’t do that.
‘A few?’ Her tone was deceptively mild.
‘Well, maybe a bit more than a few.’ The back of his neck was starting to prickle with alarm; was she about to demand an actual number?
‘Dex, relax. I’m not an ogre. I just hope you understand that certain aspects of your life will have to change if this placement goes ahead. I’m not here to lecture you, but I’m sure you appreciate what I’m trying to say.’
‘I do.’ He nodded and fiddled with the cuff of his shirt.
‘As you know,’ Mel continued patiently, ‘when it comes to potential kinship carers, their marital status is irrelevant. We don’t discriminate against single carers. But you have to consider the child, Dex. Delphi does need a stable home. Imagine how confusing it would be for her if there were an endless stream of ladies spending the night here at the flat.’
‘There won’t be. That isn’t going to happen.’ Dex knew he had to say it and mean it. ‘There won’t be anyone staying here, ever. I promise.’
And Mel didn’t believe him, he could see that in her eyes.
‘Well, I’m sure you understand the point I’m trying to put across.’ She paused to make a couple of other entries in her notebook. ‘Now, the other question I was going to ask today is about the kind of general support you’ll be needing.’
Under the circumstances, he probably shouldn’t make any truss jokes.
‘You said if I was ever stuck I could always give you a call and ask you anything,’ said Dex. The chances were that he’d be doing this a lot.
‘Of course you can speak to us, but I’m thinking more of your situation here.’ Mel made a circling gesture to indicate the apartment. ‘How well do you get on with your neighbours, for example? In an emergency situation could you call on them for practical help?’
OK, this was definitely where he was meant to say yes. Whereas in all honesty the answer was no. The apartment to the left of him was occupied by a high-class hooker, the one on the right by a high court judge. Sometimes the judge paid late-night visits to the hooker, but Dex thought he was probably the only person aware of this. Anyway, neither of them would be ideal if he were to find himself in need of assistance with a baby-related crisis.
‘Possibly.’ He spoke with caution; the apartment building might be luxurious and expensive but it wasn’t the kind of place that encouraged the occupants to become friendly – well, other than in your standard judge-and-hooker way. Maybe he should start knocking on doors and introducing himself to everyone, audition them as potential helper-outers.
‘Because it makes a big difference, you know. Having people you can rely on. Good neighbours,’ said Mel, ‘are worth their weight in diamonds.’ She looked over at Dex. ‘What?’
It was like breathing in a scent that triggered a very particular memory. Dex stared out of the thirty-foot-wide window at the panoramic view spread before them; ultra-modern London, the steel-grey water of Canary Wharf, preoccupied city people scurrying along like insects, living anonymous busy lives.
Neighbours.
That’s what neighbours are for.
You’re welcome, no problem, anything I can do to help.
Aloud he said, ‘Is a flat like this a good place to bring up a baby?’
I could do it, I could move to Briarwood.
‘Dex, please don’t worry. It’s fine. There’s absolutely no reason why you can’t raise a child in this apartment.’
He nodded, still lost in thought. I really could move. We don’t have to stay here.
‘Are you OK, Dex? Everything all right?’ Mel was starting to look concerned.
‘Everything’s fine.’ Dex broke into a broad smile of relief. It was the answer, the absolute right thing to do. A fresh start, that was what he and Delphi needed; away from temptation, away from his old hedonistic life and disreputable ways.
The only mystery was why it hadn’t occurred to him before.
Chapter 13
The thing about spending ages hunched on a stool over an angled drawing board was the havoc it played with your neck and shoulders. But when you were concentrating hard on getting your work perfect and it was all going well, you tended not to notice until it was too late.
Like now.
Molly put down her black pen, arched her back, stretched her arms and reached for her iPod. Time for a little dance to relax all those scrunched-up muscles. It had been a productive morning’s work though. Two strips of Boogie and Boo completed in four hours and a new idea was already incubating for the next. Today was definitely a good day. Plugging in her earphones and turning the volume up far too loud, she hopped down from her stool and stepped away from the drawing board. Oh yes, brilliant song, perfect . . . here we go . . .
‘So this is it,’ said Dex. ‘We’re here, this is our new home. What do you think?’
Delphi, in his arms, took her fingers out of her mouth and said, ‘Bbbbbrrrrrrrr.’
‘Thank you.’ He stuck his ton
gue out at her as she wiped her wet fingers messily down the side of his face. Who would have thought, before Delphi had come into his life, that this was something he would ever allow another living being to do? But somehow it wasn’t as repulsive as you’d imagine. Or maybe when you loved the other person this much, it just didn’t matter.
When she beamed gummily at him and made a grab for his left ear, Dex pretended to bite her hand. Delphi shrieked with delight and buried her face against his chest. Breathing in the baby smell of the top of her head, he kissed her downy dark hair. Six weeks ago, Laura had died. Yesterday he had attended the Regulation 38 Panel meeting and been granted kinship care of his niece Delphi Yates. After all the panic and worry that they would find him hopelessly unsuitable and laugh him off the premises, the waiting was over. Delphi had left her emergency foster family and was now in his care. It was terrifying and daunting, but at the same time kind of wonderful.
‘Bbbbrrrrrrhhh.’ She was now blowing raspberries against the front of his shirt. ‘Bbbbbbbbbbbbbrrrrrgh!’
Dex could feel the wet warmth sinking through the cotton; for such a small person, she certainly produced a lot of saliva. He checked his watch; it was one o’clock and their visitor was due at three.
‘Come on then, you. First things first.’ He lifted Delphi into the air and swooped her over his head, ducking in the nick of time as a ribbon of silver drool swung from her bottom lip. ‘Favours to ask.’
‘Bah!’ shouted Delphi.
Aware that there were no florist’s shops in Briarwood, Dex had picked up the bouquet from the fancy one close to his apartment building in Canary Wharf. In smart areas of London, you knew flowers had cost a fortune if they came tied up with a bit of old frayed string. As he made his way up the path with Delphi on his hip, Dex hoped that here in genuinely rustic Briarwood it didn’t make you look like a cheapskate.
Molly’s car was parked outside the cottage and the downstairs windows were open, so she must be in. This was good news. He rang the bell and waited.
Nothing.
Dexter rang the bell again.
More nothing.
Did people around here really leave their windows wide open when they went out? Surprised, he moved across and peered into the living room . . .
Ha, mystery solved.
There she was, with her streaky blond hair loosely pinned up, wearing a blue and white striped rugby shirt, knee-length white leggings and fluffy orange ankle socks. She had her back to the window and was dancing to music only she could hear.
Dex grinned. What was that expression: dance as if no one’s watching? Molly was certainly doing that. Even better, when people were listening to music through their headphones, you generally couldn’t tell what they were dancing to, but thanks to the arm gestures he knew exactly what was causing her to jig around like a hyperactive baboon.
Y . . . M . . . C . . . A . . .
Rather endearingly, she also kept getting her letters mixed up.
Y . . . C . . . M . . . A . . . As her arms this time made the correct shapes, Dex sang along in his head.
Enjoying the show, Delphi gazed intently at the exuberant display.
Y . . . M . . . C . . . Whoops. Having spun around in mid-star jump, Molly screeched to an emergency stop and did a cartoon squawk of horror. She ripped the wires from her ears and froze, clutching her throat and visibly hyperventilating.
‘Klaaaaaah!’ Delphi, who didn’t like it one bit when entertainment ended prematurely, clapped her hands together like a maestro ordering the show to recommence.
‘Sorry,’ said Dex through the open window. ‘I tried ringing the bell a few times but you didn’t hear it.’
‘That would be because I was too busy making an almighty prat of myself. OK, give me a moment to calm down.’ Molly pressed her hands to her flaming cheeks; the next moment her attention was caught by the bundle in his arms and she broke into a slow smile. ‘Is this her? Delphi?’
Dex nodded, touched she’d remembered the name. ‘It is.’
‘OK, wait there.’ Molly disappeared from the living room. Moments later she flung open the front door. ‘Come on in. I thought we’d never see you again. And look at you, you’re so beautiful!’ This last bit wasn’t directed at him; she was stroking Delphi’s face and tickling her under the chin to make her laugh. ‘Hello, sweetie pie, aren’t you gorgeous? Look at your eyes!’ Turning to Dex, she said, ‘They’re just like yours. So what’s this then, a day trip? How often are you allowed to see her?’
He followed her into the kitchen. ‘First things first. These are for you.’ Producing the flowers from their half-hidden position behind his back, Dex said, ‘Sorry it’s a bit late but thanks for everything.’
‘Don’t be daft.’ He liked the way she batted away the gratitude. ‘Anyone would have done the same.’
‘But it was you. And you let me talk things through for hours. You were amazing and I just left the next morning without a word. Bloody rude.’
Molly took the bouquet from him. ‘You were in shock. It’s allowed.’
‘Still, thank you again. I’m not usually that bad.’ He watched her tickle Delphi’s ear with one of the flowers, liking the way she concentrated all her attention on Delphi rather than him.
‘You mean when you spend the night at a girl’s place you usually say goodbye before racing out of their lives forever?’
‘Something like that.’ He liked her sense of humour too.
‘The last few weeks must have been pretty horrific.’ Her expression grew serious. ‘How are you coping?’
Dex shrugged. ‘Not so bad. The funeral was an ordeal but it’s sunk in now. And I’m not crying any more, you’ll be relieved to hear.’
‘Don’t worry about it. Crying’s normal.’
‘Not for me it isn’t. I hadn’t cried since I was seven when my hamster died.’ Dex grimaced. ‘And that was pretty embarrassing.’
‘Oh, come on, how could it be? You were only seven!’
‘My teacher at school told me my hamster had gone to heaven so I climbed a tree,’ said Dex, ‘to see if I could see it from up there. Then the teacher yelled at me and I fell out of the tree and broke my arm. It bloody hurt. I cried. Some of the other kids laughed.’ Deadpan, he went on, ‘I never cried again after that.’
‘It’s enough to mentally scar any seven year old for life.’ Molly nodded in solemn agreement. ‘And how’s Delphi doing?’
‘She’s fine, just as happy as before. It sounds terrible, but it’s better that she isn’t old enough to understand.’
‘That’s good.’ Another sympathetic nod. ‘And how often do you get to see her?’
‘It’s been three or four visits a week up till now.’ Dex shifted Delphi from one hip to the other, love and pride welling up in his chest. ‘As of yesterday, it’s going to be pretty much non-stop.’
‘You mean . . . what does that mean?’ As it slowly sank in, Molly’s eyes widened. ‘Are you going to be looking after her yourself?’
‘I am.’
‘Full time?’
‘Twenty-four seven. I know, I can hardly believe it myself. The six-week assessment was yesterday. They’ve approved me as a Reg 38 carer.’ Listen to him, spouting technical jargon he hadn’t even known existed two months ago. ‘I’m actually in sole charge of a helpless human being.’
‘Oh my God,’ Molly exclaimed, ‘that is so brilliant! You said you couldn’t do it!’
‘And I meant it. But you made me think that maybe I could.’ He smiled briefly. ‘Something else I need to thank you for.’
‘OK, now I’m the one feeling stupid. I’m welling up.’ Quickly wiping her eyes with the backs of her hands, Molly said, ‘This is crazy, but I just feel so proud of you. And Laura would be so . . . happy. Tell me everything that’s been happening. What do you have to do to prove you’re capable? Do they test you on stuff?’
‘Like you wouldn’t believe. I’m a kinship carer. Loads of questions, loads of checks. But the social work
ers are fantastic, I can’t tell you how brilliant they’ve been.’
‘So does that mean you seduced them? Sorry.’ Molly grinned at his look of mock outrage. ‘But you’re the one who told me what you were like.’
‘Were being the operative word. Past tense. I’ve made a promise to the fostering team.’ Dexter could feel Delphi’s head growing heavy against his shoulder as she nodded off. ‘And to myself too. From now on I’m going to be a reformed character. No more sleeping around, no more high life. This is the new me. I’ve learned how to change nappies. I’ve had a CRB check. I’ve been on training courses in home safety and first aid.’
‘Wow.’
‘I know. I swear, I’m this far from learning how to put together a lentil bake.’
‘You have no idea how impressed I am,’ said Molly. ‘Good for you. Are you having a nanny to help out while you’re at work?’
He shook his head. ‘No. I’ve given up work.’
‘Crikey.’
‘I’ve left London too. Meet your new neighbours.’
‘Are you serious?’ Her eyes widened. ‘You’re really moving here?’
‘I’m not often serious,’ said Dex. ‘But yes, that’s what we’re doing. You did say the natives are friendly.’
‘Even friendlier when you aren’t just visiting once every few months.’
‘Anyway, seems like a good place to bring up small children.’
Molly nodded. ‘It really is.’
‘And the neighbours don’t seem too weird.’
‘Apart from when they’re dancing around like idiots to Vill—’ she stopped abruptly.
‘It’s OK, I knew it was Village People.’ With his free arm, Dex did the left hand half of the gestures. ‘Call me psychic, but I could just tell.’
‘Now I’m even more embarrassed,’ said Molly.
‘No need. Out and proud. If anyone thinks less of you for liking “YMCA” . . . well, they’re not worth bothering about.’
She dropped a mini curtsy. ‘Anyway, welcome to Briarwood. Both of you. Even though one of you’s unconscious.’
‘Thanks.’ He could feel the tiny puffs of Delphi’s warm breath against his neck. ‘I need to put her in her cot. Actually, the flowers weren’t just a thank you, they were a bribe too. Are you around later this afternoon?’
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