A Very Special Child

by Jennifer Taylor

  Laura had no idea neither did she spend time trying to work it out. She had a feeling that she might find the answer even less to her liking!

  CHAPTER THREE

  ‘THIS is Lucy. Isn’t she beautiful?’

  There was a note in Mark’s voice that made Laura suspect that he’d guessed what she’d been thinking on the drive to his home. She shot him a quick look, wondering if he’d deliberately set out to tease her, before it struck her how ridiculous that idea was. It was no business of hers if Mark Dawson kept a whole harem in his flat, and they both knew that!

  She bent and ran a gentle hand over the white cat’s silky fur as it began to twine around her legs, deeming it wiser to concentrate her thoughts on a safer subject. ‘She’s lovely. Have you had her long?’

  ‘A couple of years. I found her wandering the streets close to where I used to live in Colchester. She was starving and had obviously been in an accident.’ He shrugged. ‘The vet said that eight out of ten pure white cats are deaf, like Lucy, and most end up getting run over because they can’t hear traffic. I contacted the police but nobody came forward to claim her so I adopted her. She doesn’t go out and seems content to be a house cat.’

  He drew Robbie forward, crouching down so that he was level with the child. ‘Come and say hello to Lucy, Robbie. If you stroke her like this…nice and gently…then she’ll be your friend.’

  Robbie tentatively ran his hand over the cat’s fur then smiled his delight as Lucy began to twine around his legs. ‘Pretty pussycat,’ he said, kneeling down so that he could tickle her tummy as she rolled onto her back.

  ‘She is pretty, isn’t she? And she likes you. I can tell.’ Mark hunkered down on his heels, gently running his large hand over the animal’s fur. ‘But Lucy is very special, Robbie. She can’t hear, so that means that you must always make sure that she can see you before you try to stroke her. Otherwise you might scare her and she could scratch you. OK?’

  Robbie nodded gravely. He looked up at Laura, a frown puckering his brow. ‘Me special? Like Lucy?’

  Laura smiled tenderly at him. Reaching out, she brushed the cowlick of fair hair back from his forehead, feeling her heart fill with love. Robbie’s handicap was clear to see in his widely spaced, slanting blue eyes and small features. He was bright enough to notice the times when people stared at him or made insensitive remarks. However, Laura had dealt with his bewilderment by explaining to him that he was very special and that was why sometimes people reacted the way they did. Now, as she looked at him, she knew that she no longer grieved for what might have been. He was her child and she loved and accepted him the way he was.

  ‘Of course you are, darling. You’re very special, just like Lucy.’

  ‘Right, then, young Robbie. If you want to stay here and play with Lucy then I can show your mum where everything is.’ Mark smiled as he straightened, although it was impossible not to see the compassion in his eyes as he looked from the child to her.

  Had he guessed how hard it was at times, dealing with people’s negative reactions, especially since Ian had died and she’d had nobody to share the heartache with? she wondered bemusedly.

  The realisation stunned her. She had known this man for a little over eight hours and already he seemed to understand so much about her life that it scared her, made her feel vulnerable. It was an effort to act naturally when he turned to her.

  ‘Can I interest you in the grand tour? It won’t take long, I promise. The flat is your typical bachelor pad…bedroom, bathroom, sitting-room and what passes for a kitchen.’

  She laughed, her fears melting away as she heard the rueful amusement in his voice. She was letting her imagination run away with her, something that happened rarely nowadays. Mark must have seen through his work the difficulties parents of handicapped children often faced and that explained his perception. There was nothing more to it than that!

  ‘Why not?’ she agreed lightly.

  Leaving Robbie sprawled on the floor, she followed Mark into the sitting-room and looked round curiously, immediately liking what she saw. Mark’s home had turned out to be the top floor of an old mansion house which had been divided into flats. In keeping with the proportions of the building, the sitting-room was huge, with a high ceiling and intricate plasterwork. It was rather sparsely furnished but it possessed a certain charm which stemmed from the eclectic mix of styles.

  Laura’s curious gaze skimmed over the claw-footed velvet sofa with its richly patterned throw, the brightly coloured floor cushions, the state-of-the-art CD player, and she smiled. Everything looked as though it were there for a purpose rather than just for show, and the room had a welcoming feel because of that.

  ‘It’s very nice,’ she pronounced when she realised that Mark was waiting for her to say something. ‘Very cosy and inviting.’

  ‘I like it.’ He grinned, his eyes reflecting genuine pleasure that she liked what she’d seen. ‘I’ve been here for about five months now and I’m slowly buying bits and pieces to turn the place into a home rather than just somewhere to sleep.’

  He put his hand to the back of her waist, guiding her back along the hall to the kitchen. It was as tiny as he’d said it was, little more than a narrow galley with cupboards on both sides and appliances neatly built in under the worktops. They both stood in the doorway and Mark laughed as he shot her a quick look.

  ‘Not the sort of kitchen a dedicated cook would enjoy working in, especially if he or she was claustrophobic! However, as my culinary expertise extends no further than “something” on toast, it suits me fine.’

  He gave the room a last, satisfied look then led her to the bathroom, which was very high-tech with its corner Jacuzzi and glass-enclosed shower. Laura made appropriately admiring noises but she could feel a little knot of tension bunching her stomach muscles as they made their way to the last room in the flat, Mark’s bedroom. She paused in the doorway, unable to explain her reluctance to enter his private domain, although that didn’t stop her taking a good look around.

  A king-sized bed covered with a navy quilted comforter with navy and white striped sheets proclaimed that the occupant was male. The walls were pristine white with a few, very masculine prints of sailing boats in silver frames scattered here and there. The furniture was heavy, dark oak, from the huge dresser holding a silver-backed hairbrush and a single bottle of aftershave to the enormous wardrobe, the door of which was standing ajar.

  Laura caught a glimpse of something light and floral through the opening, maybe a dress or a nightgown, before she hastily averted her eyes. Mark was a hugely attractive and personable man so it couldn’t be surprise she felt to discover that he’d had a woman sharing his bedroom. So what did she feel, then? Disappointment? Regret? Jealousy even?

  That last thought made her gasp and she hurriedly turned it into a cough as she saw Mark look at her.

  ‘Are you all right?’ he asked in concern, bending so that he could study her better.

  ‘I…um. Yes. Just a tickle in my throat, that’s all,’ she said, quickly turning away. She made her way swiftly back to where Robbie was still playing happily with the cat and stooped down, using the few seconds grace to get herself under control.

  What on earth was the matter with her? she wondered sickly, running a trembling hand over the cat’s silky fur. How could she be jealous at the thought of the woman in Mark’s life? He was a colleague, that was all, someone who’d been kind enough to offer her a lift and then take pity on her when she’d needed a bed for the night. That was the only claim she had on him…the only claim she wanted to have!

  ‘Right, I suppose I’d better rustle up something for us to eat. Or do you want to put Robbie to bed first?’

  Laura carefully smoothed her face into a suitable expression as she stood. ‘I think it might be better if I settled him down first. He’s usually in bed by seven and it must be that now.’

  ‘Almost half past, actually.’ Mark grinned as he saw her surprise. ‘I know. I hadn’t realise
d how late it was either. It must have taken longer to get here than we thought, thanks to the snow.’

  ‘Then if you don’t mind I’ll give him his bath.…’ She stopped and grimaced. ‘Drat! I haven’t brought anything for him to sleep in.’

  ‘How about a T-shirt of mine—would that do?’ Mark immediately offered, bending to ruffle the child’s hair.

  ‘If you’re sure you don’t mind.…’ she began hesitantly, but he shook his head.

  ‘Of course not. I’ll fetch one.’

  He headed off to the bedroom, leaving Laura to take Robbie into the bathroom and start filling the bath. Robbie was reluctant to leave the cat at first but, once he’d seen the gleaming corner tub, he soon forgot about her. Laura had the bath filled and was swishing a little of the bubble bath she’d found on a nearby shelf into the warm water when Mark appeared carrying a white T-shirt.

  ‘Will this be OK?’ He dropped the T-shirt onto the cork-topped stool then leant over and pressed a switch on the wall beside the bath. The water immediately began to foam as the Jacuzzi jets clicked into action and Robbie clapped his hands in glee.

  ‘Me in! Me in!’ he demanded eagerly, holding up his arms to Mark so that he could be lifted into the frothing water.

  ‘Ready…Steady…Go!’ Mark swung him up into the air, then with infinite gentleness deposited him in the tub. Hunkering down on his heels, he scooped a handful of sudsy water over the child’s tummy. Robbie squealed with delight and promptly retaliated by scooping up two fistfuls of water and dousing Mark with them.

  ‘Robbie!’ Laura was horrified when she saw the water soaking into the front of Mark’s white shirt, but he just grinned.

  ‘Oh, that calls for reprisals, young man. Just you wait!’ He scooped up another massive handful of water, although Laura noticed that he let most of it escape through his fingers before he shot it at Robbie. It was obvious that he was completely unconcerned by the soaking he’d had and that he was enjoying himself almost as much as the little boy was.

  Laura felt a lump come to her throat as she watched them playing together. It was so poignant to think back to the times when she’d watched Ian playing in much the same way with his son. It hurt to realise just how much Robbie was going to miss out on now that his father was dead.

  ‘Are you OK?’ Mark’s gentle voice broke through her reverie and she summoned a smile.

  ‘Yes. I was just thinking…’ she began, then stopped, wondering if she should share her thoughts with him. Surely memories like that were too personal to confide to someone who was virtually a stranger? However, it seemed that once again Mark had guessed what had been on her mind.

  ‘About Robbie playing with his daddy?’ Mark’s tone was so gentle that tears pricked her eyes and she had to blink hard to stop them from falling. She nodded mutely, knowing that it was pointless trying to deny it.

  Mark sighed. ‘You must miss him a lot, Laura. I knew from your application that you were a widow, and then Rachel told me that your husband died about eighteen months ago. I’m really sorry.’

  She took a deep breath, feeling strangely comforted by the quiet words of condolence. She had grown to dread the sympathetic expressions of sorrow in the months after Ian’s death, but it was different when Mark said it because she sensed that he really meant it. Odd, but it felt as though some of the cracks which had appeared in her heart after Ian’s death had begun to heal all of a sudden…

  ‘Thank you,’ she said quickly, refusing to let her mind go any further, because thoughts like that were wrong. She couldn’t forget about the man she’d loved just because of a few kind words!

  Laura’s hands shook as she took a towel from the rack then immediately wondered what to do with it. She stared at the soft blue terry in a daze. Suddenly, she didn’t know what to do or say anymore. She had got through the past eighteen months by focusing on the need to take care of Robbie. Now, with Mark temporarily usurping her role, she felt at a loss. It was a relief when he took charge and gave her something positive to do.

  ‘How about we swop? I’ll finish bathing this young horror while you make us something to eat?’ He grinned up at her, his grey eyes gleaming with laughter, although she wasn’t blind to the compassion they held as well.

  ‘There’s method in my madness, in case you’re wondering. I’m sure you’re a much better cook than I am and it means that Robbie and I can see who can get the wettest.’

  He scooped up another handful of sudsy water, laughing as Robbie crowed with excitement. Laura hesitated but it was obvious that her son was perfectly happy in Mark’s care.

  ‘Fine by me,’ she declared, doing her best to rise to the occasion. ‘But don’t blame me if you come off worst!’

  The words were hardly out of her mouth when Robbie let loose another deluge of water. She found herself laughing quite freely as Mark splutteringly wiped foam out of his eyes. ‘You were warned!’

  She quickly scooted out of the bathroom as he threatened her with a handful of suds, and was still smiling as she made her way to the kitchen. She opened the fridge and found eggs and bacon, a couple of tomatoes which wouldn’t have won any prizes, plus half a dozen shrivelled mushrooms, then set to work to the accompaniment of a lot of excited squealing from the bathroom. However, it was only as she was lifting the bacon out of the pan that she realised how right it felt to be doing this, how very natural.

  She put the pan back on the hob and took a deep breath, but her heart was thudding so hard that she couldn’t think straight. Maybe that was for the best. Perhaps thinking about why she should feel like this would do more harm than good. For one night at least she should forget about the problems, forget about the rights and wrongs, the yeses and the nos. She would take the next few hours as they came…

  ‘That was delicious! I don’t suppose you’d like a career change? I’m in desperate need of a chief cook and bottle-washer.…’

  Mark sighed comically as Laura smilingly shook her head. The eggs and bacon had been devoured in an appreciative silence which had been like balm to her overwrought nerves. Not only had she been able to eat the meal but she’d actually enjoyed it. She had been right to let events run their own course rather than worrying, she decided as she got up to take their plates to the sink.

  ‘No, you did the cooking so I’ll do the washing-up. It’s only fair.’ Mark got up as well and gently but firmly pressed her back into her seat. Laura shivered as she felt the pressure of his fingers against her flesh. Suddenly she was back to square one. Obviously, it was one thing to decide to let fate dictate what happened and another to carry it through!

  She scrambled to her feet, nearly knocking over her stool in her haste. They had eaten at the breakfast bar, a neat little contraption which pulled out from the wall and provided seating facilities in the tiny kitchen. However, with two of them standing, one of them being exceptionally large, the room seemed to shrink even more.

  She bit her lip as she tried to edge past Mark to plug in the kettle. ‘Excuse me,’ she muttered, turning bright pink as she felt her breasts rub against the solid wall of his chest. He had discarded his wet shirt in favour of a T-shirt in a washed-out shade of blue which made his eyes look like grey velvet in contrast. It was obvious that the garment was an old favourite because the cloth had that worn-thin softness about it that provided little barrier between their two bodies.

  Laura felt the flush on her cheeks deepen as her nipples peaked in response to his nearness. She quickly slid past him, keeping her face averted as she filled the kettle and plugged it in. Mark didn’t say anything as he carried on clearing the table, but there was less comfort in the silence than there might have been.

  Had he noticed her response just now? she wondered miserably. And had he been as shocked by it as she was? After all, they were little more than strangers so surely anyone would have been shocked to witness such blatant evidence of her…her arousal!

  Her hands shook so hard as she took two cups out of the cupboard that one of them
slipped through her fingers and shattered as it hit the tiled floor. Laura gasped in dismay, her eyes filling with tears as she saw what she’d done.

  ‘I’m sorry! I don’t know how that happened. Oh, I don’t know what to say…’ She knelt down to gather up the shards of china, wincing as she inadvertently knelt on a jagged piece.

  ‘Leave it! It’s only a cup, Laura. It doesn’t matter.’ Mark was beside her in an instant, his face full of concern as he saw the blood welling through her tights.

  ‘Hell’s teeth, you’ve cut your knee!’ he declared, drawing her upright with a firm hand under her elbow. Pulling over one of the kitchen stools, he urged her to sit down. ‘Sit there while I get the first-aid kit from the bathroom.’

  ‘There’s no need…’ she began, but he was already hurrying from the room. She rested her head against a cupboard and closed her eyes, overwhelmed by misery and shame. How could she have felt like that just now? How could she have responded that way to any man apart from Ian?

  ‘Here we go.’

  Mark came back with a green plastic box and placed it on the worktop close to where she sat. He opened the lid then turned to her. ‘Can you take those tights off so that I can check there’s nothing in that cut?’

  Laura’s face flamed at the thought of undressing in front of him, but before she could assure him that the injury was too minor to require any attention he added smoothly, ‘I’ll just get some water to clean it with while you do that.’

  Deliberately, he turned his back on her as he went to the sink and ran water into a basin. It was obvious that he’d sensed her reluctance to comply with his request and was giving her some privacy.

  Laura got up and quickly wriggled the ruined hose over her hips then tossed the small bundle into the waste bin. ‘I…I’m ready,’ she said in a quiet little voice, studiously avoiding Mark’s gaze as he looked round.